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The descent from the mountain. Page 64 


THE FUGITIVES 

OR 

The Motto Above the Door 


BY EMILY NONNEN 

>» 

FROM THE SWEDISH 

BY E. W. OLSON 

WITH SIX ILLUSTRATIONS 

BY JENNY NYSTROM 


CHICAGO 

THE ENGBERG-HOLMBERG PUB. CO. 
1909 


Copyright 1909 by 

THE ENGBERG-HOLMBERG PUB. CO, 


CONTENTS 


Page 

I. Peaceful Valley 5 

II. The Hunt 17 

III. The Return 28 

IV. Fire and Sword 34 

V. The Flight 40 

VI. The Monastery 52 

VII. A Perilous Retreat 57 

VIII. A Chance Meeting 64 

IX. The Last Pvcsting-place 72 

X. Varying Fortunes 82 

XI. In the Forest 92 

XII. The Ducal Palace 97 

XIII. The Gamekeeper 102 

XIV. What Happened to Roseli 105 

XV. The Eagle’s Nest no 

XVI. A Window-pane 1T9 

XVH. The New Home 125 

XVHI. Duchess Adelgunda 137 

XIX. Spring and Sunshine 142 

XX. A Family Group 155 




PEACEFUL VALLEY. 


)N the canton of Unterwalden, in Switzerland, 
not far from the beautiful Hash Valley, which 
an old legend tells us was first settled by the 
Swedes, lies the no less charming little valley of 
Mayenthal, known among the inhabitants themselves 
by the more affectionate name of Peaceful Valley. 

The name was, indeed, well deserved, for peace 
and good will reigned in all the little Swiss cot- 
tages that studded the mountain sides and nestled 
on the wooded slopes. 

Tiving as they did, far from the routes of the 
world’s traffic, and so walled in by steep mountains 
that they seemed entirely isolated from the world 
at large, the good people of Mayenthal had pre- 
5 


6 


THK FUGITIVES 


served the simple faith and plain customs of their 
forefathers. 

Environment puts its stamp upon men. The 
mind is ennobled by the majestic and sublime in 
nature and becomes less receptive to mean and base 
influences; and the people of Peaceful Valley were 
surrounded by natural beauty on all sides. 

For quite a distance the mountain slopes were 
covered with chestnut trees which, especially in time 
of bloom, added charm to the prospect. With their 
upright spikes of red or white blossoms they looked 
like Christmas-trees set with bright candles, while 
the soft green carpet beneath the spring flowers 
formed fanciful patterns in white and yellow and 
blue. 

Among the crags, which grew all the more in- 
accessible, the higher the ascent, the eagles built 
their nests and held court on regal heights. 

Still farther up towered granite pinnacles of 
fantastic shapes, partly decked with soft moss, while 
the crevices were verdant with dwarfed birch-trees 
to the very line where vegetation yielded to the 
eternal snows. The summit of Mount Tittis, capped 
with virgin snow, as it stood out against the 
blue sky, radiant with sunlight, formed a superb 
contrast with the green woods and valleys below. 


PEACEFUL valley 


7 


This peak did not alone lend beauty to the Mayen- 
thal scenery, for in other directions could be seen 
the Eigerhorn, never yet trodden by human foot, 
and the majestic Schreckhorn, while near them 
loomed the icy helmet of the Jungfrau. 

On every hand the cataracts dashed headlong 
down the steep cliffs, changing from emerald to 
white or whipping the waters into a fine spray, 
giving back the light in rainbow colors, and ending 
their boisterous career in the form of ambling streams 
and gentle brooklets. One of these streams mean- 
dered through Mayenthal in leisurely fashion, being 
only now and then compelled to turn a mill-wheel 
along the way. 

On a knoll covered with chestnut trees of great 
age was situated the simple little parish church with 
the parsonage adjoining, and a small village sur- 
rounding all. 

The largest and most prosperous looking cottage 
in the group was that of Conrad Reding, w’ho next 
to the parson was the most influential man in the 
valley. No one of the neighboring farmers tilled 
the soil so well as he, and as a hunter his prowess 
and daring was unmatched. In the pursuit of the 
nimble-footed chamois he leaped across forbidding 
gorges at dizzy heights, and no beast of the forest 


8 


THE FUGITIVES 


however fleet, escaped his deadly aim. When he 
returned home hale and hearty from the hunt, he 
was greeted with joy by his two children, Werni 
and Roseli, and his aged father-in-law. 

In Switzerland they have a pious and pretty 
custom of inscribing over the front door some ap- 
propriate motto, usually a passage from the Bible. 
Above the entrance to Reding’ s cottage were these 
words: '‘^The Lord thy God, will not forsake thee."'^ 

This motto was the last thing Conrad Reding 
saw when, after morning prayers, he started out for 
the hunt or for the day’s work, and on that his 
eyes first fell when he returned home. 

The cottage nestled snugly among old chestnut 
trees and fruit trees in full bearing. From its walls, 
which had the color of the natural wood, the win- 
dow casements projected slightly. An outer stair- 
way led to a gallery which ran all the way around 
the cottage. Grapevines were trained up the walls 
on latticework, forming a wreath about the legend 
over the door. For ten happy years Reding had 
dwelt here, when his beloved wife was stricken 
down by a sudden illness, leaving him and their 
two children weighed down with grief. 

Werner, or Werni, as he was familiarly called, 
was at the time our story opens, a lad of fourteen. 


PKACKFUL VALFEY 


9 


brave and sturdy, a fearless mountain climber and 
the natural leader of the boys in all their games 
and sports. 

Roseli had just completed her tenth year. She 
was rather small and frail for her age, but being 
naturally gifted and clever, she proved of great 
help to her aunt, who took charge of the house- 
hold, and by her thoughtfulness and diligence sought 
in many ways to make amends for the loss they all 
had suffered by the death of the wife and mother. 

Old Arnold, the grandfather, had moved with 
his daughter to her new home when she married 
Conrad Reding. He had found in him a tender son- 
in-law, and the greatest joy of his declining years 
he had found in rocking his sweet little grandchild- 
ren on his knees. For little Roseli grandpa’s lap 
was still a cherished retreat, and as she still enjoyed 
playing with her dolls it often happened that 
grandpa, while sitting outside the cottage of an even- 
ing, lifted her up and placed her on his lap, with 
dolls and all. Then Werni would take his place be- 
side them on the bench, provided with a knife and 
a stick of wood, for now came story-telling time. 
Werni, like his father, was a clever hand at wood- 
carving, and with constant training developed a 


lo 


I'HE FUGITIVES 


skill in making little toys and things which earned 
the young boy many a word of praise. 

Old Arnold enjoyed the highest respect among 
the neighbors round about. In his younger days, 
while he still lived in his native valley, he had 
taken active part in the affairs of his fatherland, and 
for his manly deeds and wise counsel had won high 
repute as a citizen. 

When at eventide he sat with his grandchildren 
under the balcony, he would often tell of events in 
the story of their native land or the brave deeds 
of their own people in foreign lands. 

What Werni and Roseli enjoyed above all else 
was the story of William Tell. On a visit to Alt- 
hof, not far from Mayenthal, the children had seen 
the statue of William Tell in the public market- 
place. The patriot was represented at the moment 
when, after the lucky shot, he folds his son to his 
bosom. There they had also seen several houses 
whose walls inside and out bore pictures showing 
events from Tell’s life. At the time of our story 
Schillers great poetic drama of “William Tell” was 
not yet written, but old Arnold used to recite to 
them the whole strange tale as told in doggerel 
rhymes, and before he knew, Roseli was able to read 


PEACEFUL valley 


II 


it off from beginning to end. But still she liked 
best to hear it from grandpa’s own lips. 

Werner was as much delighted to hear him tell 
of the Riitli compact, how the three original cantons 
of Schwyz, Uri and Unterwalden broke away from 
Austria, of the battle of Morgarten, 1315, of the 
defeat of Charles, Duke of Burgundy, at Murten 
and Grandson. The old man liked to end his nar- 
ratives with a reflection on the wonderful manner 
the Lord had ever protected their dear old Switzer- 
land. Said he: “Much have I tried and endured 
in life, but never have I seen the Lord desert a 
people that puts its trust in Him. Remember this, 
dear children, and strive to grow up worthy scions 
of your brave and devout forefathers: then God will 
keep his promise also with you and your genera- 
tion.” 

“But what the old man most loved to tell to 
his grandchildren was the story of Zwingli and the 
Reformation; for although Mayenthal was Protestant 
and had an evangelical pastor, all the rest of the 
country, Schwyz, Uri and Unterwalden, was still 
Catholic. This was remarkable for the reason that 
the Reformation had first begun in Einsiedeln, in 
the Canton of Schwyz, where Huldreich Zwinglius 
was pastor of the parish in 1515-1519. Arnold told 


12 


THE FUGITIVES 


how a monk named Martin Euther at the same 
time preached Reformation at Wittenberg in North 
Germany, the two reformers still unknown to one 
another. Indeed, they heard nothing of each other 
for several years, although driven to their work by 
the selfsame causes. One of these was the perni- 
cious Catholic traffic in indulgences, that is, selling 
licenses for wrongdoing. Zwingli also pointed out 
a practice threatening the political welfare of his 
country — that of the men of Switzerland enlisting 
in foreign armies, thus selling their valor to the 
highest bidder. He related also how Zwingli in 
his cell in the monastery of Einsiedeln — where he 
lived, although not a monk — besought the Eord 
to reveal to him through the Holy Spirit the right 
meaning of the Scriptures; how the reformer, by na- 
ture mild and gentle, at the anniversary of the Con- 
secration of Angels, when a great host of pilgrims 
gathered at the convent, preached with such fiery 
eloquence and holy wrath against indulgences, pil- 
grimages and monastic vows, that the monks de- 
serted their cells and left the monastery vacant for 
a time. 

Arnold further told of Zwingli’ s removal to Zu- 
rich and his work in that city, and concluded his 
story with a vivid account of the battle of Cappel, 


PEACEFUIv VAELEY 


13 


where Zwingli fell. He acquainted the children 
with the other Swiss reformers. A number of can- 
tons had each had their own leader in the work of 
reformation, so that one might speak of a religious 
as well as of a political confederation in Switzer- 
land. As high as was the old man’s admiration for 
the reformers and their work, so deep was his con- 
tempt for the Catholics, whom he painted in the black- 
est hues. Above all else, he taught the children 
the value of an intimate and childlike communion 
with the Savior, and urged them early to confide to 
Him every concern of their young hearts. So do- 
ing, they would have no fear and never need to 
feel helpless, wherever their path in this world 
should lead them. 

Casper Eandau, the venerable pastor of the pa- 
rish, often had earnest talks with old Arnold, when 
the children of Conrad Reding as well as those of 
the pastor, listened intently to the words of the 
two men. 

The pastor was a man of rigorous convictions. 
He did not connive at evil, but spoke of each sin 
by its right name. In denouncing sin, however, he 
was kind and benevolent toward the penitent sinner. 
A man of unquestioned rectitude, he judged him- 
self as severely as he did others, and for these 


14 


THK FUGITIVES 


qualities he was respected and beloved by all. His 
flock saw in him a faithful shepherd and whenever 
his parishioners were in trouble or sorrow they 
would come to him for sympathy and comfort. 

The pastorate had for a long period passed 
from father to son. The inhabitants of Mayenthal 
would have no one but a Eandau in the pulpit of 
the old sanctuary. Therefore, the present pastor 
had sent his oldest son, Aloys, to Geneva to study 
for the ministry. Aloys was a few years older than 
Werni, but the difference in age was not so great 
as to prevent the two boys from being on very in- 
timate terms. 

Through the letters of Aloys, which, owing to 
the uncertanties of the postal service of the time, 
did not all arrive, the people of Mayenthal got some 
little knowledge of affairs in general, that being the 
only channel through which the news of the world 
trickled into their quiet little nook among the 
mountains. 

The revolutions that perturbed Europe at the 
close of the eighteenth century and the beginning 
of the nineteenth were thus almost unknown to the 
good people of the valley. Rumors of the terrors 
of the revolution in France, with its streams of 
blood coursing through the streets of Paris, had gone 


PEACKFUL VAEEEY 


15 


the rounds, but these simple people believed the re- 
ports greatly overdrawn. 

Through the letters of Aloys they had been in- 
formed that a young general, a Corsican by the name 
of Napoleon Bonaparte, had succeeded in staying 
the red hand of terrorism and had risen to the po- 
sition of ruler of France under the name of First 
Consul. Bonaparte was described as a skillful com- 
mander of armies and a man of great personal bra- 
very, but a despot withal, whose will was law. 

Eater the valley people heard that Napoleon 
had brought his army across the Alps and by that 
route marched into Italy, whence the cannonade in 
the battle of Marengo reechoed through the quiet 
Alpine valleys. But Switzerland was to hear of the 
French dictator at closer range. 

The peaceable Swiss people were divided into 
two parties, the one desiring to keep the old repub- 
lic unchanged, the other striving to make it over 
after the pattern of the French republic. Napoleon 
availed himself of this dissension and imposed him- 
self into Swiss affairs in the guise of peacemaker 
between the two parties. 

Those who wished to abide by the old order 
were in the first place the people of the three oldest 
cantons, Schwyz, Uri and Unterwalden, headed by 


i6 


THE FUGITIVES 


Aloys Reding, a relative of Conrad. His views 
were fully shared by old Arnold, Conrad Reding 
and Eandau, the parson, all of whom awaited com- 
ing events with some uneasiness, but neither they 
nor anyone else in the valley had any thought of 
impending war. 

They tilled their fields, herded their kine among 
the hills or hunted the agile chamois among the 
crags; and when at eve they went to rest after a 
day well spent, they thanked God for having con- 
stantly protected their peaceful and happy valley 
from political storm and stress. 



Old Arnold telling stories 

children. Page 


to his grand- 
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II. 



THE HUNT. 

ERNI/’ said his father one day, “you have 
often begged to go with me on a chamois 
hunt, so now I have concluded to take 
you along, but only on one condition: you must 
obey my orders absolutely, for long experience has 
taught me that one can not be too careful on a hunt 
of this kind.” 

Werni was overjoyed and promised implicit obe- 
dience. He hastened to take down his gun from 
the wall and began to clean and polish it with great 
care. This done, he donned his hunting attire, in- 
cluding a yellow jacket of chamois-skin, a pointed 
hat with three eagle’s feathers stuck in the band, 
spiked shoes and a belt. In this attire, which 
looked well on the handsome and sturdy lad, he 


17 


i8 


THE FUGITIVES 


went over to where his grandfather sat reading un- 
der a pear-tree in full bloom, with Roseli at his 
side, busily engaged in making doll’s clothes. 

“God bless you, my boy,” exclaimed the old 
man with glad emotion, turning the young hunter 
around and around so as to get a good look at him. 
“What a splendid young man you are — and yet 
how much you resemble your mother! Ah, I wish 
she could see you now! But be careful, young man, 
chamois hunting is a dangerous undertaking. I say 
it again — take good care of yourself and think of 
us, who will be sitting here at home, anxious for 
your safety. I never used to be fainthearted, for I 
know that God is with us on the mountains as well 
as in the valleys, still there is something, I know 
not what, makes me uneasy today.” 

“I suppose there’s thunder in the air, grand- 
pa. That always troubles you like that,” said Wer- 
ni. “But what’s the matter with Roseli — Please 
don’t cry. Think how I’ve been longing for this 
day! 

Roseli tried to suppress her tears and turned to 
admire Werni in hunter’s garb, and when she no- 
ticed the great anxiety of her grandfather she threw 
both her arms around her brother, imploring him 
to be very, very careful with himself. 


THE HUNT 


19 


The father now appeared in full hunting rega- 
lia. He seemed very much surprised at the action 
of the children and was all the more astonished 
when Roseli clung to him and sobbed out her fears 
that “something dreadful would surely happen, for 
grandpa, who always used to tell Werni to be a 
brave little man, was so anxious about him.” 

“My dear child,” said Conrad Reding seriously, 
“how different you are today! You used to be such 
a cool and sensible little girl, but now that your 
brother is about to perform his first feat of daring, 
you try to make a craven of him. Man must act, 
but it is the part of woman to inspire him with 
courage, and that even a little woman like my Ro- 
seli can do.” He kissed her tenderly as he gently 
released himself from her firm embrace. 

The old man stroked her head caressingly, say- 
ing, “I suppose it’s grandpa who has grown a bit 
cowardly in his old age and that has affected his 
little grandchild; but now we must both pick up 
heart and cheer up one another. Go, my children,” 
said he, “turning to the two hunters, “God be with 
you, and may you return safe and sound and bring 
home lots of game!” 

Werni embraced his grandfather and felt how 
the old man’s hand trembled as he laid it on his 


20 


THE FUGITIVES 


liead with a blessing. He then kissed Rbseli’s glow- 
ing cheeks and told her to give grandpa the best of 
care and not to worry about her brother. He sought 
to cheer her up by promising to pick for her a bou- 
quet of the finest alpine roses. 

“And you take good care of papa,” she whis- 
pered as a parting word. 

“Remember,” said Werni, pointing to the in- 
scription over the door; “that the Eord will not for- 
sake us.” 

With that he swung his hat and hurried after 
his father, who had gone ahead. 

They walked briskly on in the bracing morning 
air. Just as they swung around a steep projecting 
cliff, they met Eandau, the parson, who held an 
open letter in his hand. 

“What’s the news?” Conrad inquired, noticing 
the anxious look on the pastor’s countenance. 

“I have just received a letter from my son 
Aloys,” Eandau explained. “He tells me that the 
French have forced themselves into our affairs of 
state. They have already occupied a number of po- 
sitions along the border and are now threatening 
the forest cantons. Your relative, Aloys Reding, 
is raising an army to resist the invasion. I still 
hope this will not be needed and that matters have 


THE HUNT 


21 


been peaceably adjusted, for this letter has been 
long on the way, having been delayed, apparently, 
by the floods in the Aar Valley, and as we have 
heard nothing further in the meantime, I gather 
that the affair has been settled.” 

“May it be true. Pastor, and troublous times 
for our dear country be averted. I have in mind 
to visit my old friend Roesselman, schoolmaster at 
Miihlethal, on my hunting trip. He often sees 
Aloys Reding and ought to be well informed. What 
news I learn from him I will report to you upon 
my return home. May the Lord protect our dear 
fatherland hereafter as heretofore.” 

Conrad uncovered his head as he spoke the last 
words, then proceeded on his way. 

“Amen,” said the parson solemnly, as he took 
the homeward path. 

“I am afraid our hunting trip is spoiled,” said 
Conrad as the two reached the top of a hill where 
all Mayenthal stretched before them in the bloom 
and beauty of springtime. “It is more important 
now to get the news of the dire peril that seems to 
threaten our peaceful homes. Why do men inflict 
so much evil on themselves and their fellowmen, 
when they might all live together in peace and con- 
tentment. That I can not understand, but I sup- 


22 


THE FUGITIVES 


pose that, too, serves the Ford’s purpose, or He 
would not permit it. — Now, Werni, mind where 
you’re stepping, for here the path runs along the 
steep wall of the mountain, with a precipice just 
below.” 

“But I can see but a short stretch of the path, 
father.” 

“Yes, my boy, but we must pass right through 
the cloud that obscures our way. Step cautiously 
now, and don’t get your alpenstock caught in the 
cracks.” 

“There,” said Conrad after some minutes of 
silent thinking; “we’ve made one dangerous pass- 
age in safety. Now we have a clear view ahead.” 

Proud of his ability to scale the steep cliffs, 
Werni followed in the very heels of the old and 
experienced huntsman. 

“Papa,” he suddenly called out, pointing to a 
ledge of rock, “do you see that fine buck yonder? 
He’s surely within range.” 

Conrad took aim and fired, and the animal fell 
dead. The two had quite a little work in getting 
the dead buck to a place of safety, where they at 
once skinned their game and prepared it for safe 
keeping until they should return home the next 
day. 


THK HUNT 


23 


Never before had Conrad Reding found the 
chamois so plentiful as today. They tempted the 
eager huntsman on every side. After having shot 
two or three fine specimens, he collected his quarry 
and curbed his desire for further slaughter. 

It was now well along in the afternoon. Father 
and son took a well needed rest and partook of the 
contents of their wallets. 

Meanwhile Reding cheered his son with words 
of praise and spoke of what a fine huntsman he 
would make when he grew up. Soon they must 
be on their way again, for now the sun hung low 
in the west, its slant rays gilding the snowy sum- 
mit of Mount Tittis. They were not far from 
Miihlethal, although the place was shut from view 
by a mountain covered with a dense pine forest 
through which they had to pass. 

They rose to their feet, and Conrad told Werni 
to go before, as the ground, here overgrown with 
thick moss, was very treacherous, and any misstep 
might prove fatal. 

Werni hurried on just ahead of his father, who 
looked admiringly at the boy as he skipped nimbly 
along. From brisk movement and the bracing 
mountain air his cheeks turned a light crimson, and 
when the sunbeams, which penetrated but sparsely 


24 


THE FUGITIVES 


through the evergreens, chanced to fall upon his 
curly locks, they seemed to the proud father a mesh 
of pure gold. And down in his heart at that mo- 
ment he thanked God for such a son. 

As they were going along, Conrad chanced to 
drop something and stooped down to pick it up. 
When he raised himself, he found that the boy had 
suddenly disappeared. For an instant the father 
stood petrified with horror, then he rushed forward 
and in desperate tones called the boy by name. The 
mountains re-echoed his voice, but there was no 
other answ^er. 

He searched the spot thoroughly. Great roots 
of trees crept along the rocky surface, and luxuri- 
ant ferns, climbers and underbrush covered the 
ground, concealing grottoes and crevises. Tearing 
away the tangled growth, he disclosed the mouth 
of a cavern, through which Werni might easily 
have dropped. The next moment he discovered the 
boy lying apparently lifeless on the mossy floor of 
the cave, some ten feet below. 

Though greatly excited, Conrad did not lose 
his presence of mind. Laying hold of some hang- 
ing roots he let himself down, moistened his hand- 
kerchief with the water that trickled down the wall 
of the cave, placed the boy’s head on his knee and 


THE HUNT 


25 


applied the handkerchief to his forehead. Soon 
Werni opened his eyes, stretched out his limbs and 
called out in surprise, “Where am I?” 

A moment later he rose to his feet, when the 
father found to his great joy that the lad had sus- 
tained no injuries beyond being stunned by the fall. 
The mossy padding on the stones, grown very thick 
from constant moisture, had saved him, life and 
limb. 

Having offered thanks for divine protection, the 
two began to devise a way of escape from the dark 
cave. Werni then noticed a spot of bright sunlight 
among the rocks, and guided by that they made 
their way by means of their alpenstocks to the 
crevice in the granite wall. There they found an 
opening barely large enough for a grown person to 
crawl through. Safely outside, they found them- 
selves on a ledge of rock commanding a view of a 
wide valley below. 

“Why, this is Miihlethal!” Conrad ejaculated in 
surprise, “but where is the schoolhouse and the vil- 
lage?” 

Werni looked around in astonishment. “Papa, 
they’ve had a fire; don’t you see smoke curling up 
over yonder?” 

They climbed hastily down the mountain side 


26 


ITHK FUGITIVES 


into the valley and made their way to the site of 
the village. From her hidingplace among the rocks 
an old woman ventured forth. 

“Well, Babele, is that you?” was Redings greet- 
ing, “and is it possible that the whole village has 
been burnt down! What has become of all the 
people ? My old friend Roesselman seems to be 
gone, too, and yet he was a man who was wont to 
stick to his post.” 

“Roesselman!” wailed the old woman, “he lies 
dead over there in the ruins. He was hit by I 
know not how many bullets. Ugh, it’s smoldering 
still,” she added, pointing to the blackened chim- 
neys, and laughing hideously. Her eyes rolled wild- 
ly and she seemed to have lost her mind. Passing 
among the ruins, she suddenly threw herself head- 
long on a heap of smoking debris, and resisted Re- 
ding’s efforts to remove her. 

In the meantime other villagers came out from 
their hiding-places. They looked around suspicious- 
ly, but finding that the strangers who had taken 
charge of old mother Babele were their own country- 
men, they ventured into the open. 

“What does all this mean?” Reding demanded, 
pointing to the desolation around. 

“It means that the French are here, killing 


THE HUNT 


27 


and burning throughout the forest cantons. Every 
man who resists they shoot down on the spot. This 
morning they reached us, and here you see the re- 
sult.” 

“My husband! My son!” the woman wailed 
piteously, and broke into tears over the fallen ones. 
The surviving men regarded with despair their burnt 
homes and ruined fields. 

“And which way did they go?” asked Reding. 

“To Hash Valley.” 

“To Hash!” he repeated, “then Mayen thal will 
be next. — Come, Werni, let us hurry home. If 
we had but heeded the forebodings of old Arnold 
and little Roseli and stayed at home!” 

He looked toward the west. The sun was about 
to sink beyond the ridge of the mountains, and to 
make the long trip back over the mountains by 
night would be too hazardous an undertaking. Then 
he exclaimed spontaneously: 

“God save our dear ones at home! Who knows 
what may happen before we get back?” 

“Oh, but it isn’t such a long way as you 
imagine,” said a whitehaired old man. The great 
landslide last winter filled in Wolf’s Gorge so it is 
now passable. That will save you the long way 
roundabout; and as the night will be bright you 
had better start at once. God be with you, friends, 
and may he save the people of Mayenthal from the 
fate that has overtaken us.” 



III. 



THE RETURN. 

HEN Conrad Reding and Werni returned 
home, they could tell even before their 
arrival that something unusual was going 
on. They were met by neighbors who all express- 
ed joy and satisfaction at Reding’ s early return. 

“All ablebodied men in the valley,” said they, 
have been ordered out in defense of home and coun- 
try. Pastor Eandau held brief services in the church, 
asking God’s blessing on. our undertaking, where- 
upon he himself took command of the little army 
whose weapons you can see glittering in the morn- 
ing sun. Eucky for us that every man in Switzer- 
land is trained to bear arms.” 

“I will join the ranks in a few moments,” said 
Conrad as he hurried home. 

Down in the valley lay his pleasant cottage, 
28 


THK RETURN 


29 


surrounded by fruit-trees in full bloom. At the 
gate stood old Arnold leaning on little Rbseli, who 
was very pale and wore a frightened look. 

“Thank the Eord, here we are, hale and hearty,” 
Reding called to them as soon as he got within 
hearing. Roseli at once opened the gate, and came 
running toward her father and brother. 

Reding caught her up in his arms and kissed 
her with more than ordinary tenderness, while his 
heart twitched with a pang of mingled pleasure and 
pain. He was reluctant to release the girl from his 
embrace, and Roseli wept vehemently to think that 
her father had to leave her again so soon after the 
home-coming. 

“What honor and his country demand, that a 
true Reding is ever ready to give,” he explained, 
turning to his father-in-law, w^hose hand he pressed 
warmly. “These are troublous times,” he added, 
“but if every one does his duty, the Eord will an- 
swer for the outcome. May He vouchsafe victory 
to the just cause. — Roseli, will you bring me my 
belt and pistols?” 

She ran to fetch them. Reding meanwhile pro- 
ducing his sword. It had rusted in time of peace, 
so Werni, who stood near, began to rub off the rust 
spots. 


30 


THE FUGITIVES 


Now Roseli, still weeping, returned, bearing 
the pistols. Seeing her brother at work polishing 
the sword, she wiped her tears, mindful of her fa- 
ther’s words about woman inspiring man with cour- 
age. 

“That’s right, my child,’’ said Reding, who 
noticed the girl’s manful effort to master her emo- 
tions, “you are a brave little mite of a woman, 
worthy of the Swiss race. I leave with a lighter 
heart, now that I see how well you bear up.’’ 

Werni besought his father to let him go along. 
“Haven’t I proven to you now,’’ he argued, “that 
I am no longer a child, but a young man?’’ 

“Yes, my son,’’ Reding replied, “I know that 
you are brave as any soldier, but as you have other 
duties to perform, I cannot let you go. You will 
have to take grandpa and Roseli in charge, and 
whatever happens, don’t leave them. Promise me 
that, and even in death I would have no fears for 
their welfare. I do not believe that the enemy will 
be able to force their way into our secluded valley 
except by some treachery, but should such a mis- 
fortune befall us, you must bring grandpa and Rb- 
seli to a safe place. You know every hidingplace 
in the mountains, don’t you?’’ 

“Yes, father.’’ 


THE RETURN 


31 


“But may God avert the dread calamity that 
now threatens.” 

Werni, though very much downcast, dared not 
complain, for Conrad Reding’ s children had been 
brought up to obedience. But Rbseli smiled through 
her tears, and when Werni saw that and felt a hand 
laid on his head while his grandfather invoked 
God’s blessing upon him, he manned himself and 
felt quite proud of enjoying his father’s full con- 
fidence. 

Conrad Reding was a man of fine appearance, 
and as he stood before them, gun on shoulder, pis- 
tols and battle-ax in his belt and sword at his side, 
he looked handsome and stately indeed. As he 
folded his hands in silent prayer, old Arnold re- 
moved the skull-cap from his dove- white head, and 
both children wept in silence. 

Thus several minutes passed without a sound, 
but soon voices outside were heard calling loudly 
for Conrad Reding. 

“Farewell!” said he, folding his loved ones to 
his breast, one by one. “God grant that we may 
meet again in a brighter hour.” 

Hastening away, he stopped short, and point- 
ing to the motto over the door, spoke solemnly, 
“My children, remember always that God will never 


32 


THE FUGITIVES 


forsake those who trust in Him. To the grace of 
God and of his only Son, Jesus Christ, I now com- 
mend you.” 

He then passed through the gate and down the 
valley to the point near the church where the little 
group of patriots had gathered. 

The old man and the two children followed him 
at a distance, Roseli weeping bitterly while Werni 
peered longingly over in the direction of the citizen 
army. 

At last the horns sounded the signal for de- 
parture, the drums thundered and to the martial 
airs of their native land the men of Mayenthal 
marched forth to the defense of their homes and 
hearthstones. Eong the white flag with the red 
cross could be seen waving over the departing troop, 
and all through Mayenthal the women and children 
greeted the volunteer soldiers with cheers for freedom 
and fatherland. But as soon as they had passed 
out of sight, the courage of the cheering crowd 
fell and the women broke into tears. War-drums 
and trumpet-blasts — what change the events of 
the last few days had wrought in the peaceful vales 
of Switzerland. 

But through all the braying of horns and clang 
of arms and the agonized wailings of women and 



For an instant Conrad stood petrified 
with horror. Page 24. 





THE RETURN 


33 


children could still be heard the gentle tinkle of 
cow-bells from up the green mountain slopes, and 
when the din had subsided for the day there came 
the sweet notes of yodling herdsmen calling the 
kihe home at eventide. So short may be the step 
from the blessings of peace to the horrors of war. 



i IV. 

FIRE AND SWORD. 

f IGHT settled over Mayenthal, but no one 
retired to rest. A number of persons went 
by turns to and from the pass, anxiously 
awaiting some messenger bearing news from the 
outer world. 

Old Arnold sat by the smoldering hearth star- 
ing pensively at the glowing embers. Little Rose- 
li hovered attentively about, seeking by every means 
to dispel his gloomy thoughts. 

Thus passed the moonlight night, and when no 
news came, the anxious watchers one by one sought 
their homes. Werni, for one, was unable to re- 
main indoors. He climbed to the top of a high 
cliff nearby, whence he had a sweeping view of the 
country roundabout. 

A constant din in the far distance disturbed 


34 


FIRE AND SWORD 


35 


the silence of the night. He listened for a while, 
unable to make it out, but finally he caught a faint 
ringing sound and from that he concluded that it 
must be the church bells of the neighboring par- 
ishes sounding the alarm. His inference seemed 
correct, for soon there appeared in the direction 
whence the sound came a red glare in the sky, 
which grew brighter every moment. The boom of 
cannon and the rattle of musketry was now heard, 
the sounds growing more distinct every moment, 
indicating the approach of the enemy. The thun- 
der of the cannonade reverberated from crag to crag, 
and the lad stood for some moments paralyzed with 
fear. When at last he caught the full import of the 
dread sounds, he banished fear from his mind and 
rushed resolutely down the valley, calling out as 
he ran, “The French — they are coming!” 

When he reached his own home, he found his 
aunt, the housekeeper, absent, the servants sleeping 
heavily and little Rbseli slumbering in her grand- 
father’s lap. 

At the alarm given by Werni, the neighbors 
awoke and rushed out. The next instant the bells 
of the village began to ring. The red glare in the 
heavens grew still more intense. The sound of 
firing and the yells and hurrahs of soldiery in the 


36 


THE FUGITIVES 


near distance suddenly struck terror to the inhabit- 
ants; a few minutes later thick clouds of smoke 
rolled up from the village. The enemy was upon 
them and Mayenthal was at his mercy. 

The soldiers pressed on toward Reding’ s cot- 
tage. “Hide in the cellar, quick!” Werni ordered 
his sister. 

She was afraid to be alone in the dark hiding- 
place, and would rather go to the haymow, but 
old Arnold, who had cause for fear that the ma- 
rauders would set the hay on fire, had Werni lead 
Roseli through the kitchen and down the stairs in- 
to the cellar. 

Scarcely had Werni again reached his grand- 
father’s side when the soldiers broke in the door 
and rushed into the room. Fine linen, old pieces 
of silverware, and other articles that are the pride 
of a Swiss household, were snatched from drawers 
and shelves and thrown in a heap on the floor. 
Eaughing and cursing, a couple of bearded ruffians 
seized old Arnold, threw him down and prepared to 
brain him with the butts of their muskets, when 
Werni stepped between and prayed them to spare 
the old man’s life. 

“Never mind the old dog, he’s dead already,” 
shouted one of the men, as the two engaged in a 


FIRK and sword 


37 


fight with several other soldiers, who in their opin- 
ion had secured more than their share of the spoils. 

“Now, then, let’s set fire to the old shack. 
That’s the way we treat all those who despise the 
friendship of France,’’ and with a “vive la repub- 
lique’’ the soldiers threw bundles of burning straw 
under the beds and curtains and hurried away. 

Werni, who had not taken fright, at once helped 
his grandfather to his feet and forced him gent- 
ly out of the house. He picked up a couple of 
small loaves of bread that had fallen under the table 
and put them into his pockets, then he opened the 
cellar door and brought out Roseli, who was half 
dead from fright. 

“This way, grandpa,’’ he ordered, as he placed 
the old man’s arm over his shoulders. “Roseli, 
you go before. Here the bushes are so thick the 
soldiers cannot see us, and just so we safely reach 
the cave up in the mountains, no one will ever find 
us.’’ 

They passed along in silence, going as fast as 
the old man’s feeble limbs would carry him. His 
experience as a mountain climber was of great help 
to him, and in spite of his eighty years Arnold got 
along very well, leaning on the boy’s shoulder. 

They finally reached the cave familiar to hunt- 


38 


ITHK FUGITIVES 


ers, where Werni and his father two days before 
had hidden their game. The gleam of dawn began 
to dispel the night without, but within the cavern 
pitch-black darkness still reigned. Werni searched 
for the game stored there, but it had been taken away, 
the skins only being left. 

When he told of his visit to the cave with his 
father, Roseli began to cry desperately and asked: 

“Grandpa, where is papa now — my papa?” 

“Under God’s protection, my dear. Eiving or 
dead, such a good, honest man will not be forsaken 
by our Eord and Saviour.’’ 

From Mayenthal could still be heard the dis- 
tant rumblings of battle and in the direction of the 
sound the sky still glowed red. Seated on a rock, 
old Arnold watched the blazing horizon. The raw 
morning breeze swept through the forest, causing 
his limbs to shiver with cold. Roseli lay weeping 
by his side. Pressing the hands to her temples, 
she buried her face in the moss on the ground, to 
banish from her sight the scene of desolation. Wer- 
iii attempted to comfort her, but words failed him. 
Then he whispered, “Grandpa is cold,” and Roseli 
jumped to her feet at once and began to prepare a 
soft bed of leaves and moss for him inside the cave. 

And there, at the break of dawn, they recited 


FIRK and sword 


39 


their evening prayers, whereupon the old man lay 
down on the litter prepared for him, and the two 
children, after covering him with the raw skins, 
cuddled close to him on either side to keep him 
warm. All three fell into calm, childlike sleep. A 
few moments later the sun rose in all its glory over 
the Alpine world, beaming alike on the peaceful 
cottages of the herdsmen and the ruins left in the 
wake of the invading army. 


Q |3 

PP 

3 P 

DIP 

□p 


□0 

□0 

□id 

□iO 

□0 

□0 


V. 

THE FLIGHT. 

CV^HE sun was high when the fugitives awoke. 
They had a feeling that something unpleas- 
ant had happened, but what that was re- 
quired a few moments of reflection to make plain. 
Meanwhile the warm sunlight penetrated into the 
grotto, while outside glowed the Alpine roses, smiled 
the pretty edelweiss and twinkled the fragrant 
stars of the clematis vines. All nature spoke the 
language of life and hope, and the hearts of the 
children also filled with the joy of living, and when 
Werni spied some lightfooted chamois leaping from 
rock to rock, the blood of the young hunter boiled 
for the chase. 

“O grandpa, what a pretty place this is,” ex- 
claimed Roseli, as the two emerged from the mouth 
of the cave. “See how beautifully the sun glistens 
40 


THE FLIGHT 


41 


on the peaks. If we only had our cottage here, 
and papa was with us, I could wish to stay up 
here always.” 

“Yes, my dear child,” said old Arnold, tender- 
ly stroking her tresses, “childhood days are happj^ 
and at that age the deepest sorrows are quickly 
forgotten. Just a ray of sunshine, and your young 
heart leaps with joy. With us old folks things are 
different. Everything around us takes the impress 
of our own feelings, and in our gloomy hours the 
bluest sky seems overcast with clouds. Still we 
should all bear in mind that the trials imposed by 
our loving Father in Heaven are all for the best. 
This you children are not yet fully able to under- 
stand, but during a long life I have had abundant 
proofs of it. Our dear Lord has said that not a 
sparrow falls to the ground unless it be the will of 
his heavenly Father, and as we are worth more 
than many sparrows. He will doubtless care for us; 
yet we ourselves must take a thought of our own 
welfare and plan wisely before we act. Therefore, 
let us sit down here at once and consider our next 
step. We cannot return to the valley, where the 
enemy may still be raging, so we must turn else- 
where, to some more populous district. 

After a brief council they decided to try to 


42 


THE FUGITIVES 


reach the little town of Stanz, on Vierwaldstetter 
Take, where lived a married niece of old Arnold. 
She and her husband were well to do and known 
to be hospitable and kindhearted. 

“It is not likely,” said the old man after a 
moment’s silence, “that a man of my years will 
long survive this terrible stroke. I am a weary 
wanderer longing for rest, but for your sake, my 
children, I hope my strength will last me till I can 
turn you safely over to my niece Josepha. Having 
no children of their own, she and her husband 
have long had a mind to adopt some child, and I 
am sure you will be well received and find a pleas- 
ant home with them until your father can again 
take you in charge.” 

Roseli threw her arms around the neck of her 
grandfather and kissed him amid tears. Werni 
quickly dashed the moisture from his own eyes; 
and after partaking of some bread and drinking 
from a nearby spring of crystal water, they started 
on their journey. 

From the point where they were it was impos- 
sible to reach Vierwaldstetter Take direct. They 
had to go by way of Mayenthal, and there they 
learnt further of the terrible ravages of the French 
army in their own peaceful valley. 


thk FI.IGHI' 


43 


At first they passed upward by a narrow path 
worn by hunters. Deep fissures and high precipices 
threatened on every hand. In some places they 
had a perpendicular wall on the one side and a 
yawning abyss on the other, the pathway winding 
like a narrow cord around the mountain side. Here 
and there the dwarf pine hung its gnarled limbs 
out over the precipice. Such places were the most 
treacherous, as they afforded no firm foothold. Any 
one who stepped confidently on the dense shrubbery 
expecting to find solid ground under would fall 
right through and be hurled instantly down the 
precipice. 

Along such perilous paths the two children 
guided their old grandfather, but often the passage 
would be so narrow that he had to forego their as- 
sistance, and then his experience as an old chamois 
hunter stood him in good stead. 

The vegetation grew more scarce as they scaled 
the mountains, higher and higher. Now the snow 
began to gleam forth among the tops of the pines. 
“That’s the glacier,” Werni informed Roseli, who 
had never been so high up among the Alps. 

From the forests of evergreen they passed into 
the belt of dwarfed birch, and soon after reached 
the region of eternal snow. On all sides towered 


44 


THE FUGITIVES 


masses of ice in fantastic forms. They were in the 
shape of giants and dwarfs and weird phantoms, 
some bathed in sunlight, others hiding their heads 
in the clouds. 

They progressed under the greatest difficulties. 
Their feet slipped easily on the glazed snowdrifts, 
and great fissures threatened to swallow them up. 
Travelers in these regions are wont to wear winter 
clothes and to be tied to their guides with strong 
ropes. The three mountain climbers from Mayen- 
thal had only their light summer garments, and 
little Rbseli, who herself would have needed her 
brother’s aid, instead was obliged to assist her grand- 
father, whose limbs were stiffened by the cold, mak- 
ing every step painful. 

Werni went before to investigate. Daring and 
curious by nature, he often went so near the edge 
of the precipices that his sister gave little screams 
of fright, fearing that he might lose his balance 
and fall. 

“Never mind me,” he shouted back, “I’ll take 
care of myself; but come here,” he added, “and I’ll 
show you a queer-looking cave.” 

In the edge of the glacier that overhung the 
little plat where they stood, there was a cavity 
large enough to hold several persons. It had aa 


THE FLIGHT 


45 


arched ceiling of clearest crystal, fretted in fantas- 
tic pattern and upheld by great pillars of ice, which 
gave back the rays of the sun in prismatic colors. 

It seemed as though they had been spirited in- 
to some enchanted castle, and when the old man 
saw his little granddaughter standing in there, 
dressed in the customary Swiss costume, red skirt, 
black, tight-fitting waist, and a round hat tied with 
a ribbon with streamers falling dowm over her gold- 
en braid, she looked so like a little fairy that he 
could not but smile at the pretty picture she made. 

From the melting ice on top of the glacier a 
constant dripping sprayed the sparse vegetation that 
thrived at this high altitude, prominent among 
which were some little red, shortstemmed flowers 
that glistened among the ice like rubies set in sil- 
ver. 

They stopped but a moment, for fear of catch- 
ing cold in the raw, damp atmosphere, and then 
picked their weary way down the opposite moun- 
tain slope. Here they soon reached dense woods 
of pine and fir, known as the Sacred Forest, gigan- 
tic trees spared by the woodmen from time out of 
mind for their usefulness in stopping the avalanch- 
es from hurling themselves into the fertile valley 
below. 


46 


THE FUGITIVES 


There is a superstition among the people that 
the hand which fells a single tree in this primeval 
forest will grow out of the grave. In consequence 
of this protection from the ax, there are windfalls 
lying criss-cross throughout the forest, their enor- 
mous trunks blocking the passage at almost every 
point. 

The dried limbs formed here and there an al- 
most impenetrable network, through which Werni 
with great difficulty opened a way for his grand- 
father and Rbseli. Time and again they stumbled 
over stumps and branches and sank knee-deep into 
the thick layers of moss that covered the molder- 
ing vegetation. Funguses, lichens and toadstools 
grew here in great profusion, presenting a w^eird 
commingling of life and death, growth and decay. 

Dead silence prevailed, broken only by the hum 
of insects, the sound of the woodpecker, drumming 
on some dry trunk, the distant roar of waterfalls 
and the occasional scream of an eagle winging his 
flight close to the treetops in search of prey. 

On Roseli all this made a ghastly impression, 
and she longed to get out of the somber forest, but 
she was compelled to hold her eagerness in check, 
for progress was slow and laborious, and the old 
man had to rest his weary limbs time and again. 


THK FLIGHT 


47 


At last the forest thinned, and the travelers 
got a view of the valley at the foot of the moun- 
tain. Werni’s keen eye soon discovered smoke and 
flames, indicating that this region also had been in- 
vaded by the French. They therefore found it ad- 
visable to keep in hiding among the cliffs for the 
present. 

When the sun hung low in the west they were 
still at a loss where to find suitable shelter for the 
approaching night. The melancholy yelp of the 
foxes resounded through the gorges, where Werni 
strayed in search of berries. Poor old Arnold and 
little Roseli both had grown very hungry. The old 
man meanwhile sat resting on a mossy boulder, 
while his granddaughter reclined at his feet, lean- 
ing her head against his knee. 

“The sun sets as bright and clear as though 
he had never shone on an evil thing in the world,” 
remarked the old man with a sigh. 

“Yes, grandpa, and do you notice how the 
mountains seem to grow higher and grander? I 
have never seen them so beautiful before; and look 
how monstrous their shadows are! It’s growing 
dark already, grandpa — where is Werni?’ ’ 

The old man was about to answer, when the 
eyes of both were attracted by a new grand spec- 


48 


THE FUGITIVES 


tacle. As by magic the snowcapped tops of the 
Alps were made to glow with a rosy hue, the ser- 
ried peaks glittered aloft like royal crowns in a flood 
of light, varying from purple to brightest carmine, 
and the heavens were all aflame. 

Suddenly the gorgeous colors faded into a dead 
gray, but only for a moment. Then the peaks were 
again lit up as by a lightning flash and seemed to 
soar upward like glorifled spirits. After this last 
deluge of light, the flames in the sky died, one by 
one, and again the mountain peaks loomed white 
and ghostlike in the rapidly thickening darkness. 

“That was the most brilliant ‘Alpenglow’ I 
ever saw.” It was the voice of Werni, who had 
rejoined them unnoticed, relieving Roseli of all fur- 
ther anxiety on his account. 

“It was indeed a remarkable spectacle,” said 
Arnold, one of the most beautiful sights to be wit- 
nessed in this world. It is like a struggle between 
life and death. Death seems to triumph at last, 
but his reign is short, for soon the sun rises again, 
dispelling the night and restoring the glory of the 
great peaks. Thus we also shall be resurrected in- 
to light.” 

“Oh, grandpa,” anxiously inquired Roseli, “must 
we pass the long, dreary night out here in the open?” 



is 





i 

1 


SB^vyBwBBIjKKK 




Page 6i. 


“And what is the price of all this?’’ 






4 


THK FIvIGHT 


49 


“Poor, dear Roseli,” Werni comforted, “we 
know you must be very tired, but — ab, do you see 
that light gleaming among the trees yonder? I must 
go and see what it is.” 

At the same instant Werni started to run in 
the direction of the light, it suddenly disappeared, 
but soon a small, flickering speck again became vis- 
ible, and to their joy the fugitives discovered that 
the light came from the hearth of a little herds- 
man’s chalet. They knocked at the door and in- 
quired whether some homeless wayfarers might ob- 
tain shelter there over night. 

An old man who sat before the fire preparing 
his simple meal, asked them in, and when they told 
him how the enemy had invaded and ravaged their 
peaceful valley and then of the perilous journey 
across the mountains, he was so overcome with 
astonishment that for a long while he could not 
compose himself enough to ask the weary strangers 
to sit down and rest. 

“Well, you see,” said he, rallying from the 
shock, “I am living up here among the mountains 
in such peace and seclusion with my cows and goats, 
I can hardly realize how such awful things can 
happen down in the valleys. Haven’t the French 
a country of their own large enough for them, that 


50 


THE FUGITIVES 


they must come and destroy our poor land ? I can- 
not understand. — But be seated, a feeble old man 
like you must need rest after such a journey. Such 
fine children — they must be your grandchildren?” 

“Yes,” affirmed Arnold. 

“How old is the poor little girl that was driv- 
en from a comfortable home in the middle of the 
night ? — But, my friends, you must all be hungry, 
starved perhaps, so help yourselves to the simple 
fare I have to offer.” 

He set before them bread, cheese, and milk of 
creamy richness, and with evident pleasure watched 
his guests enjoy the palatable repast. 

“Um, how good it tastes,” exclaimed Rbseli 
as soon as the gnawing of hunger had been stopped 
by the first few mouthfuls. Such rich milk and 
such cheese I never tasted before. I don’t believe 
any king gets anything better to eat than that, do 
you, grandpa?” 

“It’s because it’s all spiced with a good appe- 
tite,” the old herdsman remarked, smiling, “and 
that is something kings cannot always boast of. I 
don’t envy them, for here on my Alps I sit more 
secure than any of them on his throne. My cows 
start no revolutions. It’s well and good when every- 
one is satisfied with what he has. I for one would 


THE FLIGHT 


51 


not give the freedom and the fresh air of these 
mountains for the proudest palace in all the world.” 

“But think how much good they can do,” 
Werni interposed. “When I’ve read of great men 
who have won world-wide fame, I’ve often wished 
that I might some day become a great man, that 
I might do a great deal of good and thus become 
famous. To herd cows and goats is all very well 
in its way, but all men cannot be herdsmen.” 

“Don’t worry about that, my boy,” retorted 
the mountaineer, “the Lord will see to it that there 
will not be too many that choose my peaceable 
calling.” 

“Well, my friends, if you have supped to your 
heart’s content, I suppose we must manage to pro- 
vide you with beds, as best we can.” 

The herdsman brought in several armfuls of 
dry, fragrant hay, with which quite comfortable 
beds were made on the floor for the three fugitives 
from Mayenthal. 



VI. 

THE MONASTERY. 

hospitable herdsman would not consent to 
his guests leaving his cottage before they 
were thoroughly rested. When several days 
afterwards they departed, the kindly host took them 
part of the way to Stanz, carrying a basketful of 
provisions which he himself had furnished. 

Returning home after having bid them a last 
farewell, the mountaineer found the much-lauded 
peace and quiet of the uplands rather monotonous 
in the absence of the companionable old Arnold and 
his two grandchildren. Many an evening he would 
sit thinking with regret of the venerable old man 
and his sturdy young grandson, but the one he 
missed most of all was little Roseli, who had be- 
come the darling of his heart. 

52 



I'HK monastery 


53 


The fugitives continued their journey down the 
mountain slope into the valleys below. Everywhere 
they found traces of the ravages of the French, and 
frequently met entire families which like themselves 
had been forced to leave their homes and flee for 
their lives. 

Of these people they learnt that as the region 
was garrisoned by the invaders they could not reach 
Stanz directly. They were advised by some to go 
back to the upper valleys of Unterwalden and re- 
main in that inaccessible district until safety of life 
and property should have been restored in the coun- 
try. A couple of men who were familiar with the 
region offered to guide Arnold and his grandchil- 
dren to a place of safety. 

The hardships encountered on this new journey 
afoot were, if anything, greater than those of the 
past few days of mountain travel. More than once 
old Arnold was at the point of succumbing, and he 
bore up from sheer anxiety for the welfare of the 
children. These, assisted by the guides, did every- 
thing in their power to help him along, and they 
had not traveled far before little Rbseli had won 
the hearts of the two strangers. 

It is hard for anyone who has never seen these 
alpine regions to conceive of their wild grandeur 


54 


THE FUGITIVES 


and picturesque beauty. At the time of our nar- 
rative there were no roads, over which summer 
tourists traveled to world-renowned watering places. 
Nature still was intact, and no human efforts had 
been made to overcome the great obstacles in the 
way of the traveler. 

The experienced mountain climbers, however, 
were not deterred by any natural obstacles, and so 
enthralling was the beauty of scenery about them, 
that they frequently forgot all their hardships and 
stopped in sheer admiration. 

At one point two mountain torrents roared be- 
neath the feet of the wayfarers, uniting a little far- 
ther on into a common stream of whirls and rapids. 
Ever and anon was heard the roar of cataracts. 
Reaching the heights of Arnitobel, they had to pass 
along a narrow ledge of rock with a solid rock of 
granite mounting skyward on the one hand and on 
the other a dizzy precipice receding into a wide val- 
ley covered with a dense forest. One false step 
here meant instant death. Above the steep gorges 
towered the stupendous mountains, naked or wood- 
ed, all snowcapped and often wrapped in fogs and 
mists, but when the clouds were torn from their 
brows by the sun, they turned its rays into 
every shade of light like so many gigantic opals. 


THE MONASTERY 


55 


The little party struggled on hour after hour, 
occasionally pausing to admire some beautiful pros- 
pect or to rest after some difficult passage. 

They finally halted at a narrow bridge formed 
of rough logs. It spanned the distance between two 
cliffs, and beneath it roared a violent mountain 
stream. After no little hesitation, they summoned 
courage to cross over, but only to find the road ap- 
parently impassable at the farther end. 

Werni despaired of going any farther, when the 
two guides took the party around a projecting rock, 
and standing on a high ledge they were surprised 
to see far below them a wide, fertile valley. Through 
it flowed a broad river, and on its banks stood a 
large building, surrounded by orchards and fields. 
Eittle chalets each surrounded by a garden lay scat- 
tered through the valley. 

One of the guides, a former merchant by the 
name of Auerbach, watched their surprise with 
pleasure for a while, then explained: 

“This is the Engelberg monastery of the Bene- 
dictine friars, founded in the year iio6 by one Ba- 
ron Seldenbrani. Now take a more careful survey 
of this remarkable valley. It lies between 3,000 
and 4,000 feet above sea level and is surrounded by 
mountains as much as 7,000 feet high. The sun 


56 


THE FUGITIVES 


will set shortly, and we must now hurry in order 
to reach the monastery gate before it is closed for 
the night. The friars never refuse shelter to harm- 
less travelers. 

“But what about the girl?” old Arnold inquired. 

“That does not matter. The little one may 
stay with her grandfather.” 

Auerbach, himself a good Catholic, was ac- 
quainted with the brother gatekeeper, who opened 
for them as soon as he heard of their sad plight. 
“St. Benedict,” said he, “is ever the friend and 
protector of those in distress.” 

The fugitives were conducted into the refecto- 
ry, the great dining hall of the monastery, where 
the brother in charge set before the strangers bread, 
wine and many toothsome dishes besides. There- 
upon they were taken to the lodge, a small struc- 
ture to which visitors were assigned. 



VIL 

A PERILOUS RETREAT. 

CV^HK NKXT morning Arnold noticed that sonie- 
thing unusual had happened. I^oud voices 
were heard outside the monastery, and a 
crowd of people were assembled there. Werni at 
once started out to reconiioiter. 

“Grandpa,” he called out, as he hastily re- 
turned to the lodge, “a bloody battle has been 
fought at Stanz.” 

“What are you telling me?” exclaimed the old 
man in astonishment, and hurried out to learn the 
details. 

A friar whom he met in the garden told him 
that a Swiss force of 2,000 men had fought an army 
of 16,000 French, commanded by General Schauen- 
burg. Of the Swiss, 386 persons, including 102 


57 


58 


THE FUGITIVES 


women, had been killed, while the French loss in 
killed was 4,000. 

“Just think if they killed Aunt Josepha too,” 
exclaimed Roseli in despair. 

“Her husband doubtless fought there,” the old 
man reflected gloomily, “and such a warmhearted 
and patriotic woman as Josepha would be very likely 
to shun nothing when her husband and her country 
were in danger.” 

At this moment Roseli heard a deepdrawn sigh, 
and turning she saw Werni standing near, his cheeks 
aglow with patriotic ardor and his limbs moving as 
if he were chafing under restraint. 

“What troubles you, brother?” she asked ten- 
derly. 

“Oh, to stand here like an idler, and not go 
and fight for my country and avenge my own father, 
if he has fallen, isn’t that cowardly?” 

“Your father,” one of the friars inquired, was 
he the Aloys Reding who commanded the Unter- 
walden forces ? Then I can tell you his fate — he 
is a prisoner of war.” 

No: our father’s name is Conrad, but he was 
surely among the fighters too.” 

Roseli broke into tears as she always did now, 
whenever her father’s name v/as mentioned. Her 


A PERIIyOUS retreat 


59 


tears stirred Werni to still greater fervor. Noticing 
this, she took his hand in hers, saying: 

“Don’t be sorry because they wouldn’t let you 
go out and fight. Papa asked you to kindly stay 
at home with us, and grandpa often says God will 
bless you richly some day for being such an obedient 
son.” 

“Now, Roseli, please don’t tell grandpa what I 
just said, for it was very wrong of me.’’ 

Roseli promised, and both went over to where 
old Conrad stood. 

“Now that we cannot get to Stanz, where shall 
we turn — where ?’ ’ The old man repeated the last 
word in so despairing a tone that it cut the children 
to the quick; but a couple of friars who witnessed 
their sorrow suggested that the old man and the 
children would be welcome to remain at Engelberg 
until they should find another refuge. They offered 
to see the abbot in their behalf. 

Arnold thankfully accepted the offer. The ab- 
bot’s consent having been obtained, a pleasant little 
corner of the monastery lodge was set aside for the 
use of the three strangers. The friars were very 
kind to them, especially to Werni, whom they often 
engaged in conversation. 

They soon discovered in him a stanch Protestant 


6o 


THE FUGITIVES 


and after that studiously avoided all subjects tend- 
ing to provoke a conflict with his views. They mere- 
ly sought to satisfy his curiosity and lent him 
books and pictures treating of Catholic heroes and 
martyrs. To little Roseli the old friars told beauti- 
ful legends to which she listened with childish en- 
thusiasm. 

One day old Arnold sat in the garden of the 
convent steeped in thought. He was deeply con- 
cerned about the children, for he found that while 
he had rested to regain his strength the friars had 
been busy setting snares for them. As his thoughts 
went back to the desolated home in the once peace- 
ful valley, his staff unconsciously traced in the sand 
the motto over the door. 

The abbot, a portly, fine-looking man with a 
ruddy and radiant face, was coming down the grav- 
eled walk, and, perceiving the old man seated on 
a bench, he stopped and sat down beside him, say- 
ing, “My friend, at your age you must have seen 
a great deal of life. A chat with you would be 
full of interest, I fancy.” 

Thereupon he plied the old man with all sorts 
of questions. “And now, my venerable’old friend,” 
he concluded, “it seems best that you stay with, us 
and spend the eve of your life in peace and com- 


A PKRII.OUS retreat 


6i 


fort right here. Your grandson is a fine lad, and 
I agree to provide for him and let him choose his 
calling without pressure on my part. The little 
girl I will make room for in one of the best schools 
in the land.” 

The old man rose suddenly. 

“And what is the price of all this,” he de- 
manded. 

The head of the convent sat silent. 

“It is this,” Arnold continued, “you want to 
make Catholics out of them, but, by the living God, 
it shall never be. We and our fathers were born 
Protestants, and when I am gone it shall not be 
said that for temporal advantage I and mine aban- 
doned the evangelical faith for which our fore- 
fathers gave their lives and all.” 

There was majesty in the old man’s presence, 
and the zeal and conviction with which he spoke 
so shamed the abbot that his eyes fell, and for 
some moments he could not utter a word. 

At length he spoke coldly: 

“Do as you will, but do not be too sure your 
grandchildren will bless your memory for this de- 
cision, which may rob them of a brilliant future 
and you of a peaceful retreat for the rest of your 
days.” 


62 


THE FUGITIVES 


“That may all be, but to my way of thinking, 
it is better to be a beggar with a clear conscience 
than to live in a marble palace bought by the sac- 
rifice of one’s faith.” 

“So,” said the abbot, rising. “Well, then, go, 
and go quickly, for after spurning my generous 
offer you can no longer count on our hospitality.” 

When the friar had gone, the old man again 
sank down on the garden bench for a moment’s re- 
flection. His limbs trembled from excitement, yet 
he felt like one who has just won a great victory. 
He dreaded to tell the children that they must nov/ 
leave their comfortable lodging and start anew on 
their weary wanderings, but he yielded to necessity 
and looked them up at once. 

In her room he found Roseli busily engaged in 
committing to memory a hymn to the glory of the 
Holy Virgin. Tearing the book from her hands, 
the old man sternly told her how she was being led 
away from the faith of her own sainted mother, the 
faith that gave her comfort in her dying hour. 

Very much terrified, the girl promised never 
again to listen to the stories of the monks about 
their saints and their relics. At that moment Wer- 
ni came in, and both were informed of the stand 
just taken by their grandfather. 


A PERILOUS retreat 


63 


‘‘And must we out into the dark woods again,” 
inquired Roseli with terror in her voice. 

Werni stood silent while his grandfather told 
of his conversation with the abbot and showed him 
that it was nowise possible for him to accept favors 
from the friars without deserting his Protestant faith. 

Werni protested, saying that the friar who had 
been most occupied in giving him instruction had 
assured him that on no account need he give up 
his old faith. He had told him further that a sol- 
dier — the calling Werni had fixed upon — could 
have any religion he liked. At this point old Ar- 
nold referred to the well-known reputation of the 
monks for deception and trickery to show that no 
reliance should be put on their words. 

Little Roseli joined her grandfather in the 
effort to dissuade Werni from trusting the deceitful 
friars and urging him to come with them and be 
their protector, as he had solemnly promised his 
father to do. 

It was so agreed, and soon the monastery gate 
closed behind old Arnold and the two children, who 
were again set adrift without a goal in the world. 


VIII. 

A CHANCE MEETING. 

* IvD ARNOIyD knew that a brother-in-law of 
his niece had lived for some time at Becken- 
ried by the Vierwaldstetter lake and now de- 
termined to go to his home. 

By a perilous route down the mountain they 
reached this beautiful lake, so famous in the an- 
nals of the struggle for liberty. Clear and serene, 
it mirrored perfectly the picturesque shores. Oppo- 
site them loomed Mount Rigi, with its peculiar ser- 
rated slopes and Mount Pilatus wrapped in a violet- 
tinted fog. The country round about looked very 
fertile, and villages nestled on the wooded slopes 
far and near. 

The three wanderers proceeded into the town 
of Beckenried, which also showed traces of the rav- 
ages of war. They found that Josepha’s brother- 
in-law had removed to Altdorf before the war broke 
64 


A CHANCE meeting 


65 


out, and no one knew where he was now living. 
Arnold and the children, however, v/ere given shel- 
ter over night and next morning they started on 
their way to Altdorf. 

The strength of the old man being almost spent, 
the little party of travelers moved very slowly, Ar- 
nold exerting himself to the utmost to reach the 
goal where he hoped to find some person to whose 
care he could entrust his grandchildren.^ 

The journey had been long and full of hard- 
ship, the clothes of the travelers were torn, their 
shoes worn out, their feet were sore and bleeding. 
Their faces and appearance bore the stamp of hun- 
ger and misery, and the people treated them like a 
band of beggars, driving them from their doors 
with threats and insults. Honest old Arnold was 
charged with being a tramp who was making beg- 
gars of the children instead of teaching them to 
earn their daily bread by hard v/ork like other hon- 
est folk. The story of the French ravages and how 
they had been driven from their happy home in 
Mayenthal no one would believe, for this district 
had suffered but little at the hands of the enemy, 
and few there are who appreciate misfortunes of 
which they themselves have not been the victims. 

More disheartened than ever, they plodded along 


66 


THE FUGITIVES 


the road one sultry afternoon. Heavy clouds came 
up, obscuring the sun, and soon the rumbling of 
distant thunder could be heard. Unable to drag 
his weary legs any further, the old man sank down 
on the moss by the wayside. Spying anxiously all 
about for shelter from the approaching rainstorm, 
Roseli at length discovered what looked like a board 
roof a little way off. Going there, she found it to 
be a meager shelter for wayfarers, containing a bed 
of dry leaves and a couple of goatskins for cover. 

Having prepared the bed for him, she led the 
old man to the spot and had him lie down to rest. 
She seated herself on a stump that served for a 
chair and at his request began to sing. 

“But,” said she, “if I am to be your little 
mother and to sing lullabys to you, you must put 
your head in my lap and lie still like a good baby, 
mustn’t you, grandpa?” 

With that she sat down at the head of the bed 
and the old man did as he was bid. Then Roseli 
sang song after song until both fell asleep. 

Meanwhile Werni went in search of food. He 
found berries in plenty, and after having filled a 
small basket of birchbark which he himself had 
made while resting along the way, he returned to 
the shelter. He was not a little terrified to find 


A CHANCE meeting 


67 


there ahead of hita two well-armed men standing 
just outside the hut watching the sleepers and ap- 
parently planning what to do with them. 

Fearing danger, the youth rushed forward to 
save his dear ones, when one of the suspects halted 
him by calling out: 

“Why, Werner Reding!’* 

“Aloys Eandau — are you here?’’ the boy ex- 
claimed in glad surprise, and shook the hand of 
the unexpected friend. “But hush,’’ he added, 
“it’s grandpa and sister sleeping in there; come 
away and tell me how you happen to be here.” 

As Aloys followed, he kept questioning the 
boy as to how a part of the Reding family came 
to roam about destitute in this wilderness. Werni 
briefly told him of their sudden departure from 
home and their present plight. 

As he listened to the sad story, Aloys’ heart 
filled with sympathy for the old man and his sweet 
little grand-daughter. 

Werni in turn entreated Aloys to tell how he 
and his people had fared in the meantime, and 
what, if anything, he had heard from Mayenthal. 
Aloys related as follows: 

“Instantly I learnt of the French invasion of 
Switzerland, I tried to communicate vnth my father. 


68 


THE FUGITIVES 


I wrote several letters, but receiving no reply, I 
left Geneva and started for home. 

As I neared my happy home valley, I was 
constantly more alarmed at the state of things. 
On every hilltop the campfires blazed, on every 
road I met women and children fleeing for safety. 
The men had all rushed to arms, and everywhere 
small groups of patriots were offering resistance to 
the enemy. At the pass leading to Mayenthal I 
found a force of sturdy inhabitants on guard. My 
father being in command, I naturally joined them. 
Hardly had I found time to tell him what I knew 
of the progress of the war in other parts before 
the enemy came at us from across the Aarthal. 
They far outnumbered us, but while we still held 
the pass, and provided no one of ours turned traitor, 
not one of the enemy could get into Mayenthal. 

Night fell, and the enemy apparently withdrew. 
Then suddenly — my blood boils as I think of it — 
we saw blazing torches swarming about the valley. 
At first we knew not whence they came nor what 
they meant, but we soon discovered that they 
emerged one by one from Wolf’s Gap. Then we 
knew that we had been betrayed to the enemy, 
that one of our own countrymen — I blush to say 
it — had sold his fatherland for foreign gold. I 


A CHANGE meeting 


69 


hope to God that this dastardly crime shall not go 
unpunished. 

We were now caught in a trap. The enemy 
surrounded us on all sides. We sought to cut our 
way through, but in vain. Fresh troops were con- 
stantly added to the enemy’s forces. Most of our 
men were cut down or taken prisoners. Among the 
latter is my own father.” 

“And mine, Aloys, what do you know about 
him?” 

“Your father — Werni, you are a good patriot, 
you can bear to hear it — your father fell in the 
thickest of the fight. I saw him fall and tried in 
vain to reach his side. He noticed this and gave 
me a friendly nod from where he lay. 

Werni was overwhelmed with grief. He wept 
copiously like a child, and Aloys walked a few pa- 
ces away to leave him alone with his sorrow. 

When he returned, Werni reflected bitterly: 
“We will soon be left alone in the world now. 
Grandpa can go no farther. Who will care for us?” 

“God will. Remember your father’s words and 
put your trust in Him.” 

“Poor grandpa! Poor Rbseli! How can I tell 
them of our loss?” 

“Do not be too hasty about telling them the 


70 


THE FUGITIVES 


worst. Calm yourself before you speak to them, 
and by all means do not wake them up now.’^ 

Going back into the woods nearby, Werni fell 
on his knees in fervent prayer, beseeching the Lord 
to help him bear the appalling loss, also to grant 
the others strength and fortitude to bear up against 
adversity until it please God to open unto them a 
retreat and provide him with work whereby to earn 
a living for himself and them. 

He returned to Aloys much comforted, and the 
two friends sat down together near the shelter. 
There Aloys related his narrow escape from the ene- 
my. In the midst of the fight he had slipped and 
slid down the side of a huge rock, landing on a 
mossy bed at its base, where he lay senseless for a 
time. When he awoke to consciousness, it was 
night, and the enemy seemed to have disappeared. 
He arose with some difiiculty from a pain in the 
body and numbness of the limbs, but finding him- 
self virtually uninjured, he hastened from the field 
of battle. In the next village he met a couple of 
student friends from the invaded valleys. With 
them he sent word to other comrades to meet in a 
certain village near the Austrian border, whence 
they would repair to the imperial camp and enlist 


A CHANCE MEETING 


71 


in the Austrian army, in order to fight the French 
and avenge their fallen compatriots. 

“One of these students joined me,” he con- 
cluded; “it is safer so than to travel alone. We 
expect to encounter other comrades along the way. 
— Now they are stirring in there. Ah, there’s your 
sweet little sister.” 

Aloys hurried toward the girl, w^ho was over- 
joyed at meeting a dear friend from Mayenthal. 
With mild force she pushed him into the little hut 
to meet old Arnold. The two bombarded him with 
questions, which he answered with great caution, 
taking care to brace their courage and man them 
for the shock that was to come. 

Werni displayed so great selfcontrol that neither 
his grandfather nor his sister surmised anything. 

Aloys shot a chamois which was quickly skin- 
ned and quartered. A fire was built, and to Rose- 
li’s great amusement he and Werni tried their awk- 
ward hands at preparing a meal of fresh venison. 
It had to be roasted on a spit, and Werni 
cut a forked limb from a tree, which he deftly 
shaped for the purpose. The steak turned out de- 
licious, and refreshed and invigorated by nourishing 
food, they all started on their journey together, 
Aloys and his comrade carrying old Arnold on their 
shoulders. Werni took his little sister’s arm, and 
thus the five wayfarers plodded along rough path- 
ways until they reached the little out-of-the-way 
village of Tannendorf. 



IX. 

THE LAST RESTING-PLACE. 


a little cottage near the village of Tannen- 
dorf old Arnold lay on a comfortable bed in 
a severely plain little room. His hostess was 
a benevolent old woman, who had at once thrown 
open her poor home to the exhausted old traveler 
and was giving him the most tender care. 

The old man’s strength was gone. He was 
scarcely able to hold up his head, and when he 
wished to sit up in bed, he had to lean upon his 
little granddaughter’s shoulder. 

He rejoiced to have his dear ones about him, 
and thanked God that he had not died in some 
distant mountain cave. Then the children would 
not, as now, have had any kind friend to care for 
them for the time being. 

lyittle Roseli broke into tears. 


72 


thk last resting-place 


73 


“Don’t cry, dear child,” he would comfort 
her; “you have been a light to my eyes, and the 
memory of the joy you have given me shall follow 
you through life, for it is written: “They that 
honor gray hairs shall be blessed.” 

“And you, Werni,” he said, his eyes seeking 
his grandson, “you I thank for the sacrifice you 
made for us two when you forebore to go with 
your father to war, and remained to protect and 
care for us. Should you ever see your father again, 
which I do not believe you will, bring him my 
greeting. But it may be that I may greet him 
from you, for he may have gone before to that 
bourne, where we shall meet hereafter by the grace 
of God. Until then you must be both father and 
mother to little Roseli. Leave her not alone, but 
provide for her with brotherly love, and He who 
gave his life for us all shall lighten your burden. 
He has said that his yoke is pleasant and his bur- 
den light and has promised to give our souls rest.” 

“It is a sweet promise, that,” the old man 
continued after a pause, “for if we find no peace 
for our souls, what avails all earthly peace and 
rest. How could I bear to leave you behind in 
this vale of tears, but for the unfailing trust that 


74 


THE FUGITIVES 


we have a Father in heaven who will never for- 
sake you.” 

‘T thank you, Aloys Landau,” he proceeded, 
extending his wrinkled hand, ‘‘for all that you 
have done for me and my young friends here. God 
will repay you; yea, may He bless you all. Do 
not weep for me. In my old age I am brought 
to the grave like as a ripe sheaf is taken to the 
granary. And I die happy, for ‘I know that my 
Redeemer liveth’.” 

After this lengthy farewell the old man lost 
the power of speech. For a whole day he lingered, 
lying silent in a seemingly painless stupor. Toward 
the second evening his hostess heard the death- 
rattle in the old man’s throat, and at once called 
the children to his bedside. And as they gazed on 
his pallid countenance, the life of the old man went 
out, slowly, silently, like a light that no longer 
holds out to burn. 

The children did not perceive that death had 
come. The weeping girl kept caressing her grand- 
father’s hand until it grew stiff and cold, when she 
dropped it and threw- her arms about her brother’s 
neck. He pressed her to his bosom with a sense 
of pride over being now his little sister’s only sup- 
port. 


IvAST RKSTING-PI.ACE 


75 


The kind old woman shared the children’s sor- 
row, and Aloys Eandau was like an elder brother 
to them. A number of his comrades had arrived 
in the village during the past few days, and they 
vied with one another in showing kindness to the 
two orphans. 

On a calm summer evening, with a breeze too 
faint to stir the leaves on the trees and barely 
strong enough to set the blue-bells in motion, the 
mortal part of old Arnold was carried by sturdy 
young men to its last resting-place. The two grand- 
children and the old woman of the cottage followed 
after Aloys and his comrades as they passed through 
the gate of the peaceful little church-yard, surround- 
ed by a bending brook whose rapid waters all sum- 
mer through murmured the requiem of the depart- 
ed. As the casket moved on beneath the trees, a 
solitary thrush was heard to sing his melancholy 
refrain, and by that processional the little funeral 
party reached the grave. 

From out the church, whose tapering steeple 
rose from the midst of a clump of grand old chest- 
nut trees, came the venerable old village parson. 
After having spoken feelingly of the weary pilgrim 
who had now gone to his reward, he consigned his 
remains to consecrated ground, and the simple cas- 


76 


THE FUGITIVES 


ket was lowered, for the dust must return to earth, 
whence it came, and the spirit unto God, its prime 
source. The children wept violently as the clods 
fell with a muffled sound upon the black lid of the 
coffin, and with sad faces the comrades of Aloys 
formed a circle around them. 

When the grave was covered they quickly part- 
ed, fearing lest so large a group of young men 
gathered in one spot might arouse the suspicion of 
some lurking foe. 

“God willing,” young Eandau said at parting, 
“we will meet again under more cheerful conditions, 
but this day I shall never forget. God be with 
you, my young friends. May he help you when 
in need, and may the sunshine of his mercy beam 
over your heads some other day. 

After embracing Werni and kissing little Roseli 
on the forehead, Aloys marched away with his brave 
comrades. 

The kind old lady, in whose cottage old Arnold 
had passed his last days on earth, had offered to 
house and care for his grandchildren until a better 
home could be found for them. 

For a few days Werni availed himself of her 
kindness, while going about the village and the 
surrounding neighborhood in search of something to 


THE EAST RESTiNG-PEACE 


77 


do, but the people were all poor, and as he could 
rot desert Rbseli, he had to choose some means of 
livelihood in which she might aid him. In spare 
moments he engaged in wood-carving, which, how- 
ever, did not yield him any returns in those parts. 

One morning as he was busy pondering some 
new means of earning a living, he noticed two boys 
by a hedge playing with a white marmot. 

“Do you know,” said one boy to another, “a 
Savoyard gave it to me for a pet. He said he had 
traveled all over Europe exhibiting the little animal 
and made so much money he was now going back 
home to buy a farm. Don’t you think people are 
fools to pay money to see a little animal like that 
v/hen there’s such a lot of them?” 

“Well, yes, around here, but maybe in some 
places they never saw any like it. Still I should set 
him free. Think how happy the poor fellow will 
be when he can run around at will.” 

Werni hastened over to the two boys, saying: 

“If you don’t care for the animal, won’t you 
kindly give him to me?” 

“Who are you? Maybe a poor beggar boy 
that can’t even afford to feed him.” 

“I am poor indeed,” Werni responded; “in 
the war I’ve lost my father, and our home and all 


78 


THK FUGITIVES 


is gone, but I am no beggar. I am trying to earn 
a living honestly, and that’s what I want this little 
animal for.’* 

“Well, Martin, what do you say to it?’’ 

“Took here,’’ Werni pleaded, showing a neatly 
carved toy, representing a man balancing on a 
globe, “I’ll give you this for the marmot.’’ 

“Shall we take it?’’ 

“Who made it?’’ Martin inquired, examining 
the clever toy with covetous eyes. 

“I made it myself,’’ Werni asserted. 

“Oh, can you make such things? All right, 
then, we’ll trade. You can have the marmot.’’ 

Werni rejoiced over his bargain and, thanking 
the boys heartily, carried away his prize, proud as 
a prince with a new crown. 

Roseli was surprised to see him return in such 
high spirits. She waved her hand to him at a dis- 
tance and called him to her at once, and then the 
two children went into raptures over the sweet little 
pet, fed it to a surfeit and then conferred together 
how to procure a cage for it. Meanwhile Werni 
confided to her his plan to travel about exhibiting 
the animal for pay. 

The idea of taking up their wanderings anew 
did not appeal to her, but Werni held out to her 


THE EAST RKSTING-PEACK 


79 


what a fortune they would make. He informed 
her, besides, that his search for work had utterly 
failed. All the folks in Tannendorf seemed poor, 
he represented, and the kind old woman could not 
possibly afford to house and feed them for any 
length of time. Roseli at last yielded to his argu- 
ments, saying, 

“Well, I don’t think grandpa would have ob- 
jected, after all.” 

“No,” said Werni, “I am sure he would not. 
Besides, it doesn’t matter so much what we do for 
a living, just so we are good and try to do what 
is right.” 

“Yes; grandpa used to say we should pray for 
the Holy Spirit to help us do that,” Roseli added 
devoutly. 

For his kind hostess Werni carved a number of 
pretty and useful things. He also made for his pet 
a comfortable cage. Roseli gathered moss and made 
for it a soft bed on which the little animal reposed 
with evident satisfaction. Werni’ s last masterpiece 
was a cross, upon which he engraved the words 
that had formed the motto over the door of their 
old home, and this the two children placed on their 
grandfather’s grave the last evening before leaving 
Tannendorf. 


8o 


THE FUGITIVES 


The carved cross looked very fine where it 
stood hung with a garland of white roses, culled 
by Roseli, and the two sat down by the little mound 
viewing their work with admiration. Werni now 
finally broke the news to Roseli that their father 
was dead, having fallen on the field of battle. 

The little girl’s tears fell large and heavy as 
the drops of an autumn shower. All hope seemed 
dead. She had been waiting day by day for their 
father to come and bring them back home. That 
was why she dreaded so to wander farther away. 
But now that he was no more, it mattered not 
where they went, just so Werni promised that she 
might return at last to die among her native Alps. 

“My darling sister,” said Werni, tenderly plac- 
ing his arm around her, “I dread to do anything 
to make you sad, but you know father and mother 
both took a promise of me to be your support and 
aid, and just now I can see no other way for us 
than to start out bravely into the wide world to 
shift for ourselves.” 

“And I was to help keep up your courage,” 
recollecting which Roseli at once began to wipe 
away her tears. 

“We will try to be and do all that we can for 
one another, won’t we? Then we will gladden the 






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THK I.AST RESTING-PI^ACE 


8i 


hearts of our dear ones who are now in the grave,” 
spoke Werni with deep emotion. 

“Yes, that we will,” Rdseli assented, burying 
her face at her brother’s bosom. 

After having calmed their feelings, the two chil- 
dren knelt at the grave and repeated together the 
Lord’s prayer. This done, they rose and walked 
slowly hand in hand back to the village. 



X. 

VARYING FORTUNES. 

S OR four years Werni and Roseli had roamed 
about in South Germany exhibiting their pet 
marmot, and the girl had now reached the 
age when, according to church practice, the children 
are to be confirmed. For her age she was still un- 
commonly small, but she possessed a face of more 
than common beauty and her figure was harmoni- 
ously developed. She was, furthermore, gifted with 
a high order of intelligence and keen discernment, 
despite her lack of school training. She was clear- 
sighted and alert, and had seen a great deal more 
of the world than most girls at her age. 

Werni also had developed greatly during these 
four years. True, it was the little white marmot, 
taught by him to perform a great many amusing 
82 


VARYING FORTUNES 


83 


little tricks, and the clear, birdlike voice of Rdseli 
in her Swiss yodling songs which drew the children 
of the towns and villages around them and brought 
the coppers into the passing hat; it was, after all, 
Werni’s skillful wood carvings that brought the 
main support of these wanderers and earned for 
them a better reputation than falls to the lot of 
most of their ilk. 

Had not the great wars raged with unabated 
fury throughout Europe during these four years, 
many a sculptor would gladly have made a place 
for Werni in his studio. As it was, they had to 
be content with purchasing some little carved stat- 
uette as a specimen of the skill of the young tramp 
artist, whose works were of such excellence that he 
seldom offered them in vain. 

Rather than take a position as a disciple of 
some great artist, Werni would have enlisted as a 
soldier, but he could not bring himself to forsake 
his young sister, and would often try to comfort 
her and himself thus: 

“You shall see, Roseli dear; you shall see. 
We will make a success some day.’^ 

Not wishing to discourage him with her doubts, 
she would usually make some such indefinite reply 
as this: 


84 


THE FUGITIVES 


“At all events, we know who provides for us, 
and He will no doubt bring things to a successful 
outcome.” 

They had spent several weeks along the 
Rhine, the great river which seemed like an old 
friend and neighbor of theirs, for like them it had 
been cradled up yonder among the Alps, and all 
nature along the banks of this mighty river seemed 
to bear reminiscent traces of Alpine origin. On the 
other hand, the farther they penetrated into Ger- 
many, the more populous the country and the less 
ravaged by fire and sword than the southern part 
which they first traversed. 

Their way lay through a dense forest, which 
brought to mind their native woodland valleys. The 
weather was very hot, and they were compelled to 
stop to take their bearings time and again. Al- 
though unwilling to admit it, Wemi was tired out 
and repeatedly set the cage with the marmot down 
in order to rest. To break the weary humdrum of 
plodding through the woods, Rbseli at one resting- 
place proposed that they play some game. She 
could think of nothing but the game of tag, but 
Werni was too tired to run. Then she began to 
sing, but instead of a cheerful ditty there flowed 
from her lips this melancholy strain: 


VARYING FORTUNES 


85 


Alas, forsaken and alone, 

I’ve nought that I can call my own. 

A stranger in a bounteous land 
I found nowhere a friendly hand. 

Your mem’ry e’er my bosom fills, 

My Alpine hills, my Alpine hills! 

At the last refrain tears came into the singer’s 
voice and she finally spoke sadly, 

‘‘You must forgive me, Werni, I cannot sing 
now. I am so tired and hungry.” 

“I can well understand that,” said her brother, 
who [urged her to sit down and rest in the shade 
of an old beechtree, while he would go in search 
of berries and birds’ -eggs for food. He had noticed 
blackberry and blueberry bushes growing in the 
woods not far away. 

“But don’t stay away long,” Roseli warned 
him, “for you know how frightened I get when you 
are not with me.” 

“Oh, I’ll be back in a little while. Here, I’ll 
put the cage right beside you, so you can amuse 
yourself while I am gone. The mean thing won’t 
let me go, he bites my finger so hard. Here, now, 
let go, and I’ll bring you some nice nuts. Good- 
bye, little Roseli, now you just lie down on the 


86 


THE FUGII^IVKS 


moss and take a good nap. There can’t be any 
snakes around here.” 

She took the advice, and he was hardly out of 
sight before she was sound asleep on the ground. 

Meanwhile Werni roamed about the forest en- 
joying the cool shade and admiring the brilliancy 
of the dewdrops glistening in the sunlight. There 
was a merry hum and buzz of insects, a flutter of 
gay-colored butterflies about the flowers, the gambol 
of squirrels among the hazelbrush, and now and then 
some denizen of the forest, frightened at the sound 
of his footsteps, leaped from its hidingplace and 
scurried away among the trees. 

He wished that Roseli had been with him to 
enjoy the charm of the forest, but as she was not 
able to follow him, he fell to picking nuts and 
blackberries, all that he could carry. While thus 
engaged, he caught sight of a pretty bird which 
appeared so tame that he pursued it in the hope of 
catching it with his bare hands. In this vain 
chase he came upon berries larger and more luscious 
than those already gathered. After having added 
to his supply, he looked about him to And his way 
back. 

In mounting a rock to get a better view of the 
surroundings, he stepped on a stone, which gave 


VARYING FORTUNES 


87 


way under his foot. As he sought a better foot- 
hold, his eyes fell on a glittering object half buried 
in the thick moss. Stooping he picked up a fine 
gold watch and chain to which were attached several 
lockets and ornaments and a letter seal, all of ex- 
quisite workmanship and set with precious stones. 
One of the pendants looked to be of particular 
value, being a rare stone engraved with a coat of 
arms capped with a crown. Werni stood for several 
moments admiring the precious find, then put it in 
his pocket, vaguely wondering whether this would 
not prove the talisman that would lead to fortune. 

He suddenly reminded himself of Roseli, who 
might be looking for him, and started again to find 
his way back to where he had left her, but only to 
go further astray in the bewildering forest. He 
knew not where he was, and although a brave and 
resourceful lad, he now began to feel great anxiety. 
Hoping that Roseli might not be very far off, he 
loudly called her by name, but only echo gave 
answer. 

“Roseli,” he sighed, “how have I kept my 
promise to watch over you! May God guide my 
footsteps out of this enchanted forest!” 

Continuing in search of his way back to the 
spot where he left his sister sleeping, he called out 


88 


THE FUGITIVES 


her name again and again, vainly straining his ear 
to catch any other sound than the echo of his own 
voice. By turns his face flushed with hope and 
paled with despair. At last a coarse voice replied 
to his call: 

“Halloh, stop there, you poacher! We’ve got 
you at last. Stand, or we’ll show you a trick to 
stop runaways.” 

But Werni ran as for life. Several shots were 
fired. When he finally stopped to catch his breath, 
two huntsmen caught up with him. Knowing he 
had done no wrong, Werni faced them bravely and 
asked them to direct him out of the woods, stating 
whence he had come. 

Without answering, the men seized him vio- 
lently and dragged him away as a suspected poacher. 
His protestations of innocence availed him nothing. 
When they would not listen to his words, he tried 
to tear himself away. In the struggle his jacket 
was torn and the watch fell out of his pocket. 

“Aha!” sneered his captors, “the wretch poaches 
on other preserves than these.” 

“Do you know who this belongs to?” whis- 
pered one huntsman to his comrade. 

A council followed, resulting in Werni’ s being 
tied hand and foot and carried to a clearing in the 


VARYING FORTUNES 


89 


woods where he saw a span of horses hitched to a 
wagon loaded with game. When they reached the 
road, Werni again protested his innocence and 
prayed to be released. 

Heedless of his prayers, the huntsmen placed 
him on top of the load, mounted the wagon and 
drove speedily away. How far they traveled he 
knew not, but to him the way was as long as it 
was uncomfortable. 

At last the wagon stopped in a prison yard, 
surrounded by tall, sombre-looking buildings with 
barred windows. Werni was seized with indescrib- 
able horror when two men, after releasing the 
thongs about his legs, dragged him rudely up the 
prison steps, through gloomy corridors with locked 
iron doors at every turn, into a large room filled 
with all manner of criminals, hard-faced men who 
leered grimly at the newcomer. Werni, however, 
was not left in their midst, but brought to a sep- 
arate cell, with damp walls, green with mold, and 
a stone floor with a litter of straw in one corner 
in lieu of a bed. 

With eloquence born of despair Werni made a 
last effort to convince his captors of his innocence, 
or at least to grant him a trial in court before con- 
signing him to this vile dungeon, but he might 


90 


I'he: fugitives 


as well have talked to the dead walls as to these 
heartless fellows. They commanded him to hold 
his tongue and went away, barring the cell-door 
behind them. He could hear the clank of keys and 
the grating of bars outside, and then — there he 
was, helpless and alone, without even a chair or 
bench to sit on, and with but a bit of hard, moldy 
bread to eat and a bowl of water to drink. 

At that period justice was dispensed in rather 
despotic fashion in many European countries. A 
person having a grudge against another could have 
him arbitrarily thrown into prison without trial at 
law, and there leave him to pine away in vile dur- 
ance till death ended his sufferings. 

Werni’s knowledge of such cases only added to 
his terror, but he suffered not on his own account 
alone, for his keen sense of his sister’s anxiety over 
his long absence gave him deep concern for her 
sake also. 

He lay on the rough stone floor, a prey to 
grim despair. Suddenly his thoughts turned to 
God, who is as near to us in the dungeon cell as 
in the fields or in our homes. Where he lay he 
noticed a piece of chalk lying on the floor. Picking 
it up eagerly, he began to trace on the prison wall 
his family motto: 


VARYING FORTUNES 


91 


^^The Lord shall never forget or forsake thee.'*' 
For a long while he stood with eyes fixed on 
the familiar legend, which at this moment seemed 
to him more full of promise and comfort than ever 
before. Then with all his sorrows he turned to 
Him who gave that beautiful promise. Especially 
did he confide his beloved sister to the care and 
protection of the Eord. The prayer ended, he felt 
quite calm, and wearied by the day’s troubles and 
exertions, he threw himself upon the scant litter of 
straw spread on the cold, hard stone slabs and fell 
asleep as gently and sweetly as he had ever done 
in his soft bed at home in far-away Mayenthal. 



XL 



IN THE FOREST. 

OSKIvI awoke from a brief slumber with the 
sensation of receiving the most delicious 
fruits from the hand of Werni, who there- 
upon instantly vanished in the air. She looked 
around in alarm, but Werni was nowhere in sight. 
For a while she sat patiently waiting his return, 
but as he did not appear she was soon up and away 
in search of him. She dared not leave the road, 
however, for fear of getting lost. Besides, if Werni 
returned in the meantime, he would be greatly 
worried to find her gone. While circling about the 
spot where her brother left her, she recalled all the 
dreadful tales she had ever heard of lonely wander- 
ers being attacked and killed by bears, wolves and 
other ferocious beasts. Werni might have met the 
same fate, she imagined, or, if he had simply lost 
92 


IN THE FOREST 


93 


his way, she would yodle a song or two so as to 
indicate her whereabouts. 

Through the forest rang her clear voice in the 
songs with which she used to call the herds home. 
She yodled the refrains time and again, but Werni 
came not. Then her voice faltered and broke, fear 
choked back the notes — she threw herself headlong 
in the grass and sobbed as though her heart would 
break. 

After having lain thus a long while, she heard 
approaching footsteps. She rose quickly to find, 
not Werni, but a young woman wearing a many- 
colored cloak and a shawl tied around her head. 
In her hand she carried a basket and on her back 
a tiny infant. The face was tanned by the sun a 
deep brown, the eyes were jet black and her raven 
tresses hung about her face in disorder. At some 
other time Roseli would have been frightened at 
the sight, but now she was glad to find a human 
being near. 

“Was it you that sang just now?” queried the 
stranger. “You have a pretty voice, my child, but, 
pray, why are you all alone in the wild forest?” 

“My brother went to pick some berries and 
has not come back. Haven’t you possibly seen 
him?” 


94 


THE FUGITIVES 


“Your brother — is he a young man, and how 
was he dressed?” 

“Yes, and he has large, brown eyes and wears 
a Swiss costume.” 

“It might have been he who came over to us 
just as I left home. If you go back with me, I 
am sure you’ll find him.” 

Forgetful of her sorrow in her anxiety to rejoin 
her brother, Roseli at once started to accompany 
the woman. 

*‘But your pet — aren’t we going to take that 
with us?” asked the woman, picking up the cage. 

“Indeed, we are. I had almost forgotten our 
dear little marmot, which has done so much for us. 
Thank you, I can carry it myself.” 

They walked far into the forest, which grew 
more wild and gloomy as they advanced. Despite 
the woman’s assurance that she would find her 
brother, Roseli began to hesitate. 

A pillar of smoke rising among the trees at 
length designated their goal and soon Roseli saw 
smoke-clouds issue from a tent, around which were 
gathered men and women in bright-colored apparel. 
They were all squatting or lying around the tent 
door, the women being all of the same type as 
her guide. The Swiss girl, who had never seen 


IN THE FOREST 


95 


gypsies before, surmised that they were such, was 
struck with a great fear and would have run away, 
had not the strange woman clenched her hand 
tightly in hers. 

“Surely you wouldn’t leave us now, dear. Be- 
sides we won’t let you go just yet. We can make 
good use of your sweet voice and that pet of yours,” 
said the woman, going from lures to threats. 

So saying, she dragged the frightened girl with 
her into the tent and ordered an old woman, who 
was minding the pots, to give her something to 
eat, adding, “We’ve got to feed the youngster, or 
she won’t feed us.” 

While the old woman was forcing some vile 
stuff down the girl’s throat, the younger woman 
turned to her companions demanding the cause of 
their apparent excitement. 

“Why, you see,” explained a large, fierce- 
looking man who seemed to be the gypsy chief, 
“Max just came in and told us the new game 
warden, who is such a favorite of the duke, has 
got on our trail, and as he is a stricter man than 
his predecessor, we fear he will oust us from the 
purlieus. I’ve sent out men to spy on his doings, 
but I expect we will have to decamp soon, and 


96 


THE FUGITIVES 


then we will need that young one in a business 
way, all right.” 

Although Roseli did not understand their lan- 
guage, she gathered from the demeanor of those 
about her that something was about to happen and 
therefore resolved to be on her guard and not yield 
to exhaustion. 

Not long after her arrival in camp, two young 
gypsies came rushing back to the tent in great ex- 
citement, and from their mimicry she gathered that 
the troupe must flee helter skelter or all would be 
taken captive. 

Some one seized Roseli by the arm and com- 
pelled her to run along with the rest. A musket 
shot was flred close behind, and the man who was 
dragging her along fell wounded beside her. She 
then tore herself away from him and fled among 
the brush and brake like a young dove released 
from the clutches of the hawk. She heard a num- 
ber of shots exchanged while she continued running 
in the opposite direction from that taken by the 
gypsies. 

Roseli ran until she fell exhausted in a glen of 
the forest. What happened after that she did not 
know, for she swooned as she fell. 



XII. 

THE DUCAL PALACE. 


« OW long Werni had lain in his dingy cell he 
did not know, when one day he was glad- 
^ dened by the sound of footsteps outside of 
his cell door and the grating of the rusty bars at an 
unusual hour. This might presage either good or 
evil, but so great was the young prisoner’s longing 
for the slightest break in the prison routine, that 
he waited with bated breath for the door to swing 
open. 

There entered a little old gentleman in black, 
who eyed the young Swiss long and deliberately 
through a monocle and finally concluded to bring 
him before the duke. Werni was somewhat sus- 
picious, but when the jailer brought him his hat 
and a better suit of clothes and gave him some 
97 


98 


THH FUGITIVES 


passable food to eat, he hoped his case had taken 
a turn for the better. 

Down in the prison yard the little old man’s 
carriage was waiting. Wemi stepped in, and when 
the two were seated side by side the vehicle was 
drawn at a rapid pace through a number of streets, 
then along a country road until it stopped in front 
of a grand old palace in the woods, occupied by 
the duke and his retinue during the hunting season. 
Through an archway they proceeded into a court- 
yard guarded by soldiers, and thence past bowing 
servants in handsome liveries up staircases and 
through corridors and passages until brought by 
two lackeys into a large, sumptuously appointed 
hall. 

* ‘There’s the duke,” whispered the man in 
black, turning toward a group of gentlemen who 
stood conversing at a window. 

Werni’s head swam at the sight of all this un- 
expected grandeur. His dazed eyes turned in every 
direction, but nowhere did he discover the antici- 
pated royal throne occupied by a prince with crown 
and ermine. He saw nothing but a man in black 
attire with a star of some royal order on his breast, 
talking to a couple of officers in uniform. At his 
side stood a slender lad of thirteen, dressed in a 


THK DUCAIv PAI.ACK 


99 


suit of green velvet and a white satin waist- 
coat. 

In another part of the room a young girl of 
about fifteen was seated in a divan, surrounded by 
her ladies-in- waiting. Her face was pale, with 
finely molded features and big, bright, blue eyes. 
These she fixed on the young stranger, who re- 
mained standing near the entrance, feather-tipped 
Swiss hat in hand, feeling quite out of place in 
these sumptuous surroundings. 

At a word from one of the lackeys the duke 
faced about and called Werni over to him. 

“What is your name?” he inquired. 

“Werner Reding.” 

“Have you ever seen this?” he continued, tak- 
ing from his pocket the watch and chain found by 
Werni. 

“Yes, your highness.” 

“When and where?” 

Werni told the story of the find and what hap- 
pened after that. 

“That agrees with what we have learnt before,” 
said the duke, turning to the bystanders. Again 
turning to Werni, he continued: “This watch be- 
longed to my grandfather and my father, and I 
prize it highly. I constantly carry it on my per- 


TOO 


THK FUGITIVES 


son. While hunting one day I lost it and at once 
offered 200 guilders for its return. A game warden 
named Kuno, whom I had recently taken into my 
employ, turned it in, stating he had found it, and 
consequently received the reward. The same day 
he was wounded in a skirmish with a band of gyp- 
sies. At first the wound was not considered serious, 
but the case has taken a turn for the worse, and 
the physician now fears the patient cannot recover. 
Facing death, the man has confessed to his pastor 
and requested that you be released from prison and 
brought to his bedside. Here are 400 guilders.” 
He took from a table a large purse heavy with 
gold coin. “The two hundred are your well-earned 
reward; the balance is to compensate you for the 
injustice and suffering inflicted on you in my terri- 
tory. You may stay here if you like, and enter 
my service.” 

Overwhelmed by his good fortune, Werni was 
unable to utter a word,., until the young duchess 
came forward and asked him what he was going to 
do with all that money. 

“I am going to search for my sister,” was his 
prompt reply. 

“Your sister, what about her?” the duchess 
inquired, becoming keenly interested. 


THE DUCAE PAEACE 


lOI 


Encouraged by the interest she took in his case, 
Werni approached the duchess and gave her an 
account of his adventures from the time of the 
flight from Mayenthal. 

“I will have a search made for your little sister 
throughout my state,” said the duke in a kind and 
gracious tone. “In the meantime you may remain 
at my court. If we fail to find her, you are at 
liberty to carry on the search, for which you may 
count on my assistance.” 

With a humble bow Werni thanked the duke 
for his great kindness, whereupon he reverently 
kissed the slender white hand of little Duchess 
Adelgunda and withdrew. 

The little gentleman in black provided a liveried 
servant to take him to the bedside of the dying 
gamekeeper at the hunters’ lodge. 



XIIL 

THE GAMEKEEPER. 

q^J^HERK was a vast contrast between the mag- 
nificent halls which Werni had just left and 
^ the stuffy little sickroom he now entered. 

■^‘Poor boy, is it you,” wheezed the sick man 
when Werni approached his bedside. He found 
the gamekeeper writhing with pain. 

“You came near being made a victim of my 
greed, and I suppose you can never forgive me for 
the evil I sought to bring upon you,” pleaded the 
sufferer. 

“I forgive you gladly, my friend,” said Werni. 
“Besides, it is all over now. The Eord so ordered, 
that the evil you intended for me has turned to 
good. Furthermore, our Savior himself taught us 
102 


THE GAMKKKKPKR 


103 


to forgive those who trespass against us, as we 
would ourselves be forgiven.” 

“You are from Switzerland, young man, tell 
me, from what part,” the sick man inquired, mak- 
ing an effort to sit up in bed. 

“I come from Mayenthal, known as ‘Peaceful 
Valley,’ until the enemy succeeded through treach- 
ery to devastate it by fire and sword.” 

“The traitor — it was I,” stammered the sick 
man and fell back on the pillow. 

“You,” shouted Werni, backing away horror- 
stricken. 

“Yes, I, and you are right in shunning me. 
All men turn away from me. Even the enemy, who 
paid me a paltry sum to show them the way through 
Wolf’s Gap, now spurn me. So I came here — and 
again my love of gold led me to commit a wicked 
deed. For me all hope is gone. I am lost for time 
and eternity,” he wailed. 

“Do not say that, my friend,” Werni comforted. 
“Turn to God and confess your sins, and for the 
sake of Christ Jesus, our Savior, he will forgive 
you.” 

“It cannot be.” 

“Would that Pastor Eandau were here with 
you, Kuno, he could intercede for you better than I.” 


104 


THE FUGITIVES 


“Eandau, did you say?” The dying man started 
from the bed. “Never mention that name to me 
again. That man was the cause of all my mis- 
fortunes.” 

“He? How so?” Werni demanded in surprise. 

“Yes, one day he took me to task, charging 
me with greed, and said I must resist that temp- 
tation or perish. I grew furious and resolved 
to have my revenge. When the enemy came and 
offered to pay for a little aid, I jumped at the 
offer, glad to get back at Eandau, but I got the 
worst of it, after all, and he was right, for the 
path of greed has led me straight to perdition.” 

“Say not so,” Werni pleaded, falling on his 
knees at the bedside, “but let us pray God for your 
redemption.” 

“Never mind, young man, you may go now. 
I am tired out, so don’t bother with any prayers.” 

Werni had to leave the dying man in this hope- 
less state. He saw the sweat of agony on his tem- 
ples as he departed. The guide now showed him 
to a pleasant little chamber in the ducal palace, 
and in the privacy of his room Werni beseeched the 
Eord to have mercy on the traitor’s soul, and closed 
with a petition for an early reunion with his dear 
little sister Roseli. Shortly after Werni’s departure, 
Kuno lost consciousness and his wicked life ended 
in utter despair. 






XIV. 


WHAT HAPPENED TO ROSELL 

HEN Roseli regained consciousness, she 
found herself lying in a comfortable bed 
in a pleasant room. A number of persons, 
young and old, surrounded her, she heard friendly 
voices and felt the sprinkle of sweet-scented water 
on her face and temples. 

“She isn’t dead; look, auntie, she’s looking 
up,’’ shouted a rosy-cheeked little girl in great ex- 
citement, and an old lady, who was feeling Roseli’ s 
pulse, now smoothed back her golden tresses, say- 
ing softly as to herself, “My poor little darling.’’ 

For some moments Roseli lay perfectly motion- 
less, while her mind cleared and memory returned. 
Then, with a sudden motion she sat up in bed and 
called out: 

105 



io6 


THE FUGITIVES 


“My brother — where’s my brother? Did they 
kill him — the gypsies?” 

This said, she fell back on the bed and burst 
into tears. 

“How now, do you feel better?” the old lady 
asked, sympathetically placing Roseli’s head on her 
bosom. 

“Aunty, dear, let us give her something to eat 
first,” suggested Mrs. Van Orley, mother of the 
little cherub, “then there will be time enough to 
hear about her brother.” 

As Roseli was too weak to help herself, four 
happy children were soon engaged in friendly rivalry 
over the task of feeding her. 

After having appeased her hunger and taken a 
short rest, Roseli recounted all her adventures to 
her new friends, who listened in wonderment, espe- 
cially the children. When she got to the stirring 
scene in the gypsy camp, the children began to cry, 
and as soon as the story was finished, they ran to 
their father in a whirl of excitement and asked 
him what could be done to find the little girl’s lost 
brother. 

Mr. Van Orley was a merchant, who had come 
to Nuremburg on a protracted business trip, taking 
with him his wife and children and their governess. 


WHAT HAPPENED TO ROSEEI 107 


The party also included Mrs. Van Arnhem, widow 
of Mrs. Van Orley’s uncle, an estimable old lady 
who added much to the pleasure of the journey. 

In the early part of the last century there were 
no railways. The Van Orleys, who were wealthy, 
traveled in two large, well equipped conveyances, 
enabling them to stop over at any point they chose. 

On their return trip to Amsterdam they had 
found Roseli in the forest the day Werni lost his 
way. They had stopped to rest their horses, when 
Gertrude, the youngest child, going in search of 
flowers, found Roseli lying unconscious on the 
ground. She called the others to the spot, and as 
the girl still showed signs of life, they took her up 
tenderly, placed her in one of the carriages and used 
every means to call her back to life. 

In the meantime, they reached the nearest city, 
where comfortable apartments were taken in the 
best hotel. Roseli was carried up and placed in a 
soft bed, and a physician was sent for, but before 
he arrived, the Van Orleys succeeded in awakening 
the girl to consciousness. 

As soon as Mr. Van Orley heard Roseli’ s story, 
he advertised in the newspapers for the young Swiss, 
giving full description and offering a reward for 
information as to his whereabouts, but all without 


io8 


I'HE FUGITIVES 


results, for the gazettes of that day were small, 
contained mostly official items, and were not widely 
read; furthermore, the Van Orleys and Werni were 
at the time in different states, and, worst of all, 
the latter was still confined in prison. 

This Rdseli did not know. Tike the Van Or- 
leys, she expected him to turn up any day or hour. 
She was under a constant strain of expectation. 
Whenever a door was opened or the sound of foot- 
steps reached her ear, she would start nervously, 
thinking Werni had come. But they were all 
doomed to disappointment. After having delayed 
the journey day after day at the urgent request of 
the children, Mr. Van Orley could tarry no longer. 
Having arranged with a business friend to continue 
the search for Werni, he resolved to start for home 
the next day. 

But what was to be done with the foundling? 
The children were heartily in favor of taking her 
along, but knew not whether they would dare to 
ask so much of their parents. 

Before they could decide, the question solved 
itself when Mrs. Van Arnhem asked Rbseli to 
come and share her home, as she had long wished 
for a young girl to shed the sunshine of childhood 
over her quiet old home. 


WHAT HAPPENED TO ROSEEI 


109 


Roseli accepted with delight, and that moment, 
had she only known that Werni was safe, her hap- 
piness would have known no bounds. 

“Have no fear for him, my child; the Eord 
will certainly protect him as He protects us,” said 
her motherly friend. 



XV. 

THE EAGLE’S NEST. 

waited for news of Rdseli as anxiously 
id she of him. Constant disappoint- 
t led him to despair of ever meeting 
her again until they should be reunited before God’s 
throne, where their prayers for one another were 
daily offered. 

During this period of patient waiting, the young 
Swiss was far from inactive. For reasons unknown 
to himself, he had become a great favorite with the 
children of the duke, Sigismund and Adelgunda. 
These were rather frail scions of the ducal family 
tree, for the etiquette and class distinction at the 
courts of the petty German states had left them no 
freedom to play and associate with children of their 
own age, and their whole bringing up tended to 
no 



THE EAGEE’S NEST 


III 


make them precocious and oldish. That rollicking, 
boisterous spirit which is pent up in the breast of 
every child was never given full play. From in- 
fancy they had been confined, body and spirit, in 
the strait- jacket of conventionality. They had been 
stunted in their mental growth and were frail and 
tender as hothouse plants. 

Sigismund had recently had the good fortune 
to be placed under the tutorship of one Von Schon- 
born, who used every means to correct the faults 
in his early training, and his pupil, though lacking 
imagination, was a boy of a practical turn, who 
under proper guidance might yet develop into a 
good man and wise ruler. 

His sister Adelgunda, on the other hand, pos- 
sessed a very vivid imagination, and, confined as 
she was to a narrow, irksome sphere, with nothing 
to do, she fled to the realm of fancy and developed 
into a romantic little dreamer. 

Her mental life was depicted in her outward 
appearance. Her eyes sparkled; her pallid cheeks 
would flush suddenly, and her whole being would 
seem as if glorified by the light from within. She 
was a sweet-tempered and amiable girl, whom all 
loved. It was, therefore, with sadness they saw 
her gradual transition from the carnal to the spir- 


1 12 


THE FUGITIVES 


itual world. Often they would shake their heads, 
as much as to say: “Our poor, dear little duchess 
will not be with us long.” 

There was something ominous about the hectic 
flush on her cheeks, usually followed by faintness 
and either an unnatural brilliancy or a deathlike ex- 
pression of the eyes. The old court physician, who 
was perplexed over her condition, prescribed goat’s- 
milk and the simple life of the country folk, but 
as this ran counter to all the rules of court life, 
the poor girl was left to pine away in soul-killing 
tedium and inactivity. 

So one day the young Swiss appeared, his sad 
adventures awakening the sympathy of all. True, 
the old duke was testy and whimsical and a great 
stickler on etiquette, who resented any lack of def- 
erence to his person or the exalted ofiice he believ- 
ed he held by the special dispensation of Provi- 
dence, but apart from this he was a kind ruler and 
insisted on the most exact justice for every one of 
his subjects. As a consequence, he was extremely 
kind toward Werni, seeking in every way to com- 
pensate him for the injustice heaped upon him by 
his subordinates. 

He rejoiced to see his son, the young duke, 
who otherwise was wont to treat strangers coldly. 



An arrow pierced the breast of the feathered 
marauder. Page 115.- 



THE K AGEE’S NEST 


113 


take an interest in the young man, so far as to ask 
that he be appointed his adjutant and yeoman of 
the guard, with the privilege of wearing the costume 
of his own country. 

It was Werni’s sturdy independence and hearty 
manner that most of all impressed the young nobles, 
to whom no one had ever spoken with such natur- 
al frankness. The little duchess never tired of hear- 
ing him tell of his beautiful fatherland and all the 
adventures he and his sister had passed through. 

Her fancy conceived all manner of romantic 
episodes in which little Roseli played a part after 
parting from her brother, and then dwelt with pre- 
dilection on their reunion as she imagined it. 

Sigismund greatly admired the strength and vi- 
rility of his companion. 

‘‘I would give anything to be as strong as 
you,” he exclaimed one day. 

**Your highness can easily get strong just by 
taking plenty of recreation out of doors,” Werni 
suggested. 

Mr. Von Schonborn, who heard this, counseled 
the young duke to take Werni’ s advice. He him- 
self took Sigismund on long walks and let him go 
mountain climbing with Werni. A step farther, 
and he was chasing the fleetfooted game, equipped 


THE FUGITIVES 


iH 

with bow and arrows. All this had to be done 
secretly, but the results proved a glad surprise to 
the old duke. His pale, lank, uncouth son was 
getting color in his cheeks and marrow in his bones, 
as shown by his firm step and manly bearing. His 
mental condition and his temperament also showed 
marked improvement through outdoor life. 

Since spring a pair of eagles had had their nest 
on a high ledge of rock not far from the forest 
palace. Autumn was now drawing near, and the 
parent eagles had to forage constantly to appease 
the ravenous appetite of their young. Thus the 
birds did a great deal of damage to the flocks and 
coops round about by carrying away lambs and 
chickens at short intervals. 

One day consternation reigned at the ducal 
court. The eagle had pounced upon and carried off 
the young duchess’ pet lamb. All eyes watched 
the regal bird carry his prey to the summit of the 
cliff. Side by side in the court yard stood the 
duchess and Werni witnessing the outrage. 

“I’ll get him, dead or alive, and try to save 
your lamb,” he shouted and, seizing his bow and 
arrows, made for the eagle’s nest. 

The duchess, her ladies-in-waiting and all pres- 
ent followed him to the base of the rock. Werni 


THE EAGLE’S NEST 


111 

quickly scaled the steep cliff and a few moments 
later appeared at the top. As he started the ascent, 
the people called to him from below: 

“Don’t try: you can’t do it!’’ 

“Tush, this is nothing but a molehill to what 
I am used to,’’ Werni answered back, as he con- 
tinued the perilous ascent. 

With bated breath the onlookers followed the 
climber with their eyes. He had no visible foothold, 
so every time a twig broke or a rock loosened and 
rolled down the precipice, the ladies gave little 
screams of fright. 

“I am sure he can go no further now,’’ said 
the little duchess in anxiety. 

Werni was seen to disappear for an instant. 
He crept close to the gray wall of granite and noted 
carefully the location of the nest, which was not 
set on the top ledge, but among the tangled limbs 
of a dwarfed fir tree. 

Reaching the top, Werni crawled slowly to the 
edge of the precipice and the next instant an arrow 
from his bow whizzed through the tufted branches 
and pierced the breast of the feathered marauder, 
which fell dead among the young eaglets. The 
lamb was found still alive and unharmed but for a 
few bloody marks from the eagle’s talons. 


ii6 


THE FUGITIVES 


Werni rescued the pet animal, stuffed the ea- 
glets into his game-bag and climbed down more 
quickly than he had made the ascent. 

He was met with shouts of joy and admiration 
for his brave feat, and hastened over to where the 
duchess sat in a cane chair brought out for her com- 
fort, encircled by the court ladies standing. At 
her feet Werni placed the pet lamb, whose snowy 
fleece was mottled with stains of blood. The duchess, 
in her anxiety to reward the hero of the day, drew 
a ring from her hand and attempted to place it on 
his, but as it was too small to pass even the first 
joint of his little finger, she drew forth her watch 
and hung it by a long golden chain about his neck. 

In the little duchy, where there was a dearth 
of important happenings, the story of the rescue of 
the fpet lamb of the young duchess by a young 
Swiss eagle-hunter was heralded abroad as though 
it were a great event of state. Werni at once found 
himself famous, and but for the good sense of Von 
Schbnborn he might have been quickly spoiled by 
the attentions showered upon him. The old tutor 
had from the first taken a kindly interest in the 
young stranger, lent him books to read and sought 
in every way to train his mind and to lead his 
thoughts in proper channels. 


ITHK KAGtK’S NKST 


117 


As Werni in the capacity of adjutant and body- 
guard to the young duke was required to be con- 
stantly near him, this served him well, for from 
outside the open door to the duke’s study he list- 
ened to the instruction given. Being often together 
with the tutor, he talked over these same subjects 
with him, asking about those things he had not 
readily understood, and thus in the course of the 
winter spent at the ducal court Werni acquired 
quite a little book learning. 

He did not, however, give up wood carving, 
but whipped out his jack-knife and attacked his 
block of wood at every leisure moment. The chil- 
dren of the duke greatly admired the pretty products 
of his craft and encouraged his efforts. Werni’ s 
favorite occupation was making small models of his 
dear little cottage home in Mayenthal. Its every 
detail he worked out with the greatest care, not 
forgetting the motto over the front door — the hall- 
mark of the little chalet. 

Several of these models he gave away to friends, 
but at their suggestion he began to offer these little 
model cottages for sale as souvenirs. There was a 
brisk demand for them, and the business paid him 
so well that when spring came he resigned his post 
at court and started out to pursue his craft. He 


THE FUGITIVES 


iiS 


was spurred on chiefly by the hope that if he wan- 
dered about the country selling his wares himself, 
he might by chance get some trace of his lost 
sister. 

“Should your search fail,” said the old duke 
at leave-taking, “you will be welcome back. Your 
post will be kept open for you.” 



XVI. 


A WINDOW-PANE. 



KRNI traversed one small state after another, 
but found nowhere a vestige of Roseli. 
Wherever he came, people talked of noth- 
ing but the great Napoleon and his triumph over 
the Germans, the Austrians and the Spaniards. 
Napoleon was the great war god of the time, whose 
progress none ventured to stay without courting 
defeat. The brave young Swiss artisan could do 
no more, but almost as much as the petty kings 
and princes did — he clenched his fist at the tyrant, 
but like them he put it in his pocket. 

Had not the duke who befriended him been 
guaranteed the unmolested possession of his duchy 
upon a sw’orn promise to the French emperor to 
keep aloof from inter-state affairs and see that every 
119 


120 


THE FUGITIVES 


one of his subjects did the same, Werni, upon leav- 
ing the duke’s palace, would have enlisted in some 
German army. As it was, he knew nothing about 
the great wars but what he now picked up from 
hearsay among the common people, and in conse- 
quence went about his peaceable pursuits, hoping 
ultimately to find R5seli. 

He stood once more on the banks of the Rhine, 
that majestic river with its varied scenery of ruins 
of ancient castles alternating with populous modern 
cities. Heedless of the perils of war, he determined 
to take a pleasure trip on the great river. Progress 
was very slow. The principal boats were great, 
unwieldy barges, towed by means of ropes along 
the banks. This, however, gave the passengers 
splendid opportunities to admire the beauties of 
nature along the shores, and Werni, accustomed as 
he was to a land of great beauty of scenery, enjoyed 
the voyage hugely. 

Especially fine were the views about Oberwesel. 
At this point the most magnificent landscapes, the 
most romantic castles and the most venerable old 
monasteries seemed to have been grouped together. 

Werni paced up and down the deck of the 
bargelike riverboat, stopping ever and anon to view 
the broad band of water that wormed its way 


A WINDOW-PANE 


121 


between high banks, where the hillsides were covered 
with vineyards and the dominant points crowned 
with ivy-covered ruins of the splendid castles of 
mediaeval times. To him the most picturesque ruin 
of all was that of the many-turreted castle of Rhein- 
fels. So charmed was he by the prospect that the 
moment the boat stopped almost under the walls of 
the old pile, he hastened on shore and up the steep 
incline to view it at close range. One of the tur- 
rets was apparently restored, for the rays of the 
setting sun had set its windows aflame. 

A party of students reached the gate just 
ahead of him and were admitted by an old watch- 
man and guide. Werni joined the jolly crowd and 
soon fresh young voices awakened the echoes in 
every nook and corner of the castle halls. 

They reached the chamber in the highest turret, 
where Werni had seen reflected the red sunset. 

“What a magnificent view,” said Werni to 
himself as he neared a window and looked. 

A scrawl on the window-pane attracted his 
notice. 

“What’s this,” said he in surprise. 

“Some message from a lovelorn maiden of the 
days of chivalry, I suppose,” ventured one of the 
students jestingly, but he grew sober at once upon 


1^2 


Tnn FUGITIVES 


noticing the emotion displayed in Werni’s face as 
he made out the writing. 

“My God! — Roseli! — She has been here!” he 
exclaimed, oblivious of those about him. “When 
and where shall I find her?” 

He hastened down to the old gate-keeper and 
belabored him with questions as to all the persons 
who had visited the ruin during the past months. 
He described his sister minutely and demanded to 
know whether such a person had recently been there. 
The old man could not remember; he had seen so 
many ladies, young and old, that it was impossible 
for him to recall them, and there was no visitors’ 
book, either, where their names were recorded. 

With sad face and heavy heart Werni rejoined 
the party. 

“What was the matter, my friend?” queried 
the comrade who spoke to him in the tower. “Are 
you seeing things? All it says here is these words: 
‘The Ford thy God shall never forsake thee.’ ” 

“But look down there in the corner,” said 
Werni. “There it reads, ‘This promise has been 
richly fulfilled in my case. R. R.’ That means 
Roseli Reding, my sister.” 

The students all became greatly interested in 
the fate of the young Swiss maiden. They asked 


A WINDOW-PANK 


123 


questions and Werni answered until they had learnt 
the whole story. 

It was growing dusk and the students, having 
been told to leave, proposed that Werni accompany 
them to a nearby tavern, where a plain supper with 
Rhine wine was ordered. The jolly comrades supped 
amid jest and song and drank heartily to the health 
and welfare of Roseli. Werni, having caught the 
prevailing spirit of jollity, sang several Swiss bal- 
lads. 

While he was singing, the student who had 
first approached Werni thumped the table with his 
fist, shouting: 

‘ ‘That song I have heard before, and it was at 
Rheinfels, too, but when — let me see — oh yes, now 
I remember: it was last August. There was a party 
of us up there, when a family of tourists were 
strolling through the halls viewing the old castle. 
I took particular notice of a pretty young girl with 
golden hair, who was always getting in our way, 
and remember that their party — I think they were 
Dutch — went down to a point in the old castle park 
where there is a fine echo, and there the young 
girl sang that very same song.” 

“It must have been Roseli,” asserted Werni, 
“for our mother wrote the words of that song. 


iH 


THE FUGITIVES 


and I don’t believe there’s another mortal who ever 
knew them.” 

They all talked over the matter, and some one 
suggested that Werni pursue his search into Hol- 
land. But while war raged, information was hard 
to get, and Werni resolved to leave matters as they 
were for the time being, having been assured that 
his sister was safe and sound and living in comfort. 
He bade the party of students farewell and returned 
forthwith to the duchy, where his master, young 
Duke Sigismund, who had greatly missed him, gave 
him a most hearty welcome. 



XVIL 


THE NEW HOME. 



'OSEIyl and her new friends had continued 
on their journey down the Rhine, mean- 
while visiting quite a number of historic 
spots, including Rheinfels castle, where the 
young girl, her heart filled with gratitude for 
all the kindnesses shown her, borrowed Mrs. 
Van Arnhem’s diamond ring and with it traced 
on the pane of glass the words destined to give 
so great comfort to her brother. 

In Dutch territory nature bore a different stamp. 
The once turbulent Rhine here flowed tranquilly on, 
finally branching and forming a fertile delta, the 
Netherlands, before emptying into the North Sea. 
The country is flat, presenting to view nothing but 

125 


126 


THE FUGITIVES 


broad, rich plains, intersected with canals. Gigantic 
windmills, to pump out the surplus water in case 
of an overflow, stood in rows like turrets on breast- 
works, with lines of tall, straight, 'military-looking 
poplars posted like pickets along the dams. 

Tittle Gertrude clapped her hands with joy at 
being home again. 

“Isn’t this beautiful,” she exclaimed, turning 
to Roseli. “Took at these grand dikes and the 
big boats that glide slowly down the canals! And 
not a hill or mountain in sight to interfere with 
one’s view. After all, Holland is a glorious country, 
don’t you think?” 

The poor Swiss girl could hardly keep back her 
tears. How could she live in such a flat, ugly, 
tedious country, probably never again to view the 
sublime beauty of the snow-capped mountain peaks 
in her native land! The unobstructed view that 
gladdened the patriotic little Dutch girl almost 
frightened Roseli. She felt lost, swallowed up in 
this boundless stretch of landscape, this enormous 
sweep of horizon. Mrs. Van Arnhem, who compre- 
hended her unexpressed feelings, sought to com- 
fort her. 

“My dear child,” said she, “you will miss your 
dear Alps, I know, but we will try to make you 


THE NEW HOME 


127 


happy without them; then you will know that true 
happiness does not always go with beautiful sur- 
roundings.” 

Humbly kissing the old lady’s hand, Roseli 
sought to choke back her tears, but time and again 
the monotonous view grew so irksome to her eyes 
that she crept back into a corner of the carriage 
and kept them fixed on the old lady for hours at 
a time. 

The travelers reached Amsterdam at last, and 
great was the jubilation of the children as the car- 
riages stopped in front of their father’s house. 

Mrs. Van Arnhem owned the house next door 
to the Van Orley mansion. It w^as a handsome and 
comfortable home, occupied by herself alone. From 
her windows one had a view of a long row of sim- 
ilar houses, each occupied by a single family. They 
were, therefore, of modest size, but extremely well- 
kept and with an air of luxury about them. In 
another direction were the harbor dikes, presenting 
a bewildering perspective of canals and bridges, and 
ships from all parts of the globe. Here was life 
and bustle and an endless variety of things to see. 

The Van Orley children took delight in taking 
Roseli about the city and showing her all the glo- 
ries of the Dutch metropolis, but however great 


128 


THE FUGITIVES 


was the interest they aroused, she always longed to 
get back to the peaceful home of Mrs. Van Arn- 
hem. 

In her house the most punctilious order reigned. 
Cleaning, scouring and polishing, all went like 
clockwork, but without that fidgeting and pedantry 
laid up, not without reason, against the average 
Dutch housewife. For Mrs. Van Arnhem was a 
lady of the most refined instincts whose ideal inter- 
ests in life kept her from fretting about mere triv- 
ialities. 

Every morning Rbseli went over to Van Orleys’ 
to take part in the instruction given their children. 
One girl, Anais, was of her age and the two to- 
gether were also being prepared for their first com- 
munion. 

Rbseli had difficulty in keeping up with the 
other pupils. She had to wrestle with a new lan- 
guage, and besides, it was not easy to begin one’s 
studies at fifteen, but with prayerful diligence she 
overcame all obstacles to the great satisfaction of 
her fostermother. In her company she spent her 
happiest hours. Especially did she enjoy the eve- 
nings, seated on a low stool beside Mrs. Van Arn- 
hem’s great armchair. Then she was free to tell 
of life in dear old Mayenthal, of her father, grand- 


THE NEW HOME 


129 


father and Werni, of the perilous flight up among 
the mountains and of the peregrinations in the Alp- 
ine valleys. All sufferings were now forgotten, and 
in her mind’s eye she saw her native Alps in all 
the fanciful glamor absence lends to a beloved spot. 

But she was as often the listener as the nar- 
rator. Her fosterniother would often relate to her 
the experiences of her youth and of her travels with 
her husband to far away India and Ceylon, that 
wonderful island the sweet incense of whose flowers 
and aromatic herbs is carried by the breezes far out 
to sea. She was also informed of the war tempests 
that were at the present time stirring the nations, 
of the revolution in France and of Napoleon’s remark- 
able Egyptian campaign. Mrs. Van Arnhem de- 
scribed everything vividly and looked upon passing 
events in the light of Holy Writ. When bedtime 
came, Rbseli would bring her the sacred book and 
then say her evening prayers before grandma, as 
she called her. 

On these occasions the old lady would comment 
upon how God guides human destinies in affairs 
both great and small. She often referred to Rbseli’ s 
own experiences as a proof in point, adding a word 
of cheer and comfort as to the fate of her brother 
Werni. 


130 


THE FUGITIVES 


For him many an ardent prayer rose from his 
sister’s lips. Time and again she beseeched the 
Eord to reunite them in their dear fatherland, the 
very thought of the hoped-for meeting up yonder in 
sight of the never-to-be-forgotten Alpine peaks caus- 
ing bitter-sweet tears to fall many a night upon her 
downy pillow. 

Thus a whole year passed. Roseli was con- 
firmed and by that sacred act became more inti- 
mately attached to her friends in Holland. For 
the summer they left Amsterdam for the country, 
when Roseli was given an opportunity to see some- 
thing of Dutch farm life. With the return of fall 
and winter they all went back promptly to their 
varied duties in the city. Roseli continued study- 
ing with the Van Orley children, alternately wait- 
ing devotedly upon her fostermother, whose bodily 
strength now began to give way, while the life of 
faith grew ever stronger. 

Mr. Van Orley frequently went on long busi- 
ness trips and was always greeted with ovations of 
joy upon his return. 

One night Anais poked her sweet face through 
the door of Roseli ’s room and asked: 

“Won’t you drop in to us for a moment: papa 
just got back. He has been up the Rhine this 


THE NEW HOME 


time, all the way to Westphalia, and you can’t 
imagine what pretty things he brought home with 
him and what a lot of interesting stories he has to 
tell.” 

Although eager to go with her friend, Rbseli 
hesitated to leave the old lady, who seemed quite 
faint and helpless. 

”Oh no, my child, you may go. I am not as 
sick as you may think, besides, my old Riki is 
here with me.” 

So Roseli went with Anais and admired highly 
all the pretty gifts Mr. Van Orley had brought 
home to the members of his family. 

“You must not think I have forgotten my little 
Swiss maiden,” he said, after having watched her 
unselfish joy over what the others had received. 
“Eook here, this is for you.” 

He handed her a little square wooden box. 

“Thank you, it was very kind of you to think 
of me,” she said, dropping a courtesy and flushing 
with anticipation. 

The children all crowded around her and their 
father stood back of them smiling at the eagerness 
with which she examined the box. At last the lid 
was cautiously raised, and at sight of what was 


THK FUGITIVES 




inside, the girl was so moved that she wellnigh 
dropped box and all to the floor. 

“What is the matter?” the bystanders all asked 
in chorus. 

But Mr. Van Orley sat down beside the girl 
and asked sympathetically: 

“My dear child, what is the trouble? I was 
sure the little Swiss cottage would delight you, or 
I would not have bought it.” 

“Indeed it does — it was very kind of you, Mr. 
Van Orley. What shocked me was to find that iFs 
a model of my own home in dear old Switzerland. 
I remember well every detail.” 

“But, my child, there’s any number of Swiss 
cottages built exactly the same way.” 

Roseli sat for a few moments in silent contem- 
plation of the little chalet, which she held in her 
hand. Suddenly, with cheeks aflush and eyes beam- 
ing with glad surprise, she exclaimed: 

“Most certainly it is our old home, and Werni 
has carved it, too. Now I know he is alive, and 
by the grace of God I may still find him.” 

At these words she began to weep so vehemently 
that Mrs. Van Orley became alarmed. She had her 
brought into an adjoining room to rest and calm 
her feelings. When Roseli had composed herself 


THK NKW HOME 


133 


she rejoined the group and then pointed out to them 
the inscription carved in tiny letters above the door 
of the little cottage, reading thus: 

^^The Lordy thy God, shall never forsake thee.^' 

The block on which the model rested also bore 
in small letters the name Werni Reding and a date 
some four months back. 

“Too bad he didn’t mark the name of the place 
where he lives,” said Mr. Van Orley. “At any 
rate, I congratulate you, my dear Roseli, upon hav- 
ing found some trace of your brother. I’ll write at 
once to the merchant from whom I bought the little 
cottage and ask him to let us knov/ v/here and how 
he came by it.” 

Again Roseli thanked her benefactor. The 
whole family partook of her joy, but she herself 
now longed to show her gift to her fostermother 
and in her quiet chamber tell her of the message 
the little cottage had brought. 

From Mrs. Van Arnhem she received a full 
measure of sympathy. The old lady was quite 
moved by the joy of her protege and joined her in 
offering thanks to God for the glad news implied 
in the little gift and praying that brother and sister 
might soon be reunited. 


134 


THK FUGITIVES 


“Now, grandma, you must go to bed at once: 
you look very tired.” 

“Well, I feel somewhat faint, but I am so 
happy on your account,” and again the devout old 
lady folded her hands and turned her eyes heaven- 
ward. 

Roseli slept but little that night. She rose 
early, and after dressing herself hastened to her 
fostermother’s room. 

Mrs. Van Arnhem seemed still sound asleep, so 
Roseli stopped at the door waiting for her to stir. 
But as the old lady lay motionless a long time, she 
stole quietly to her bedside. There was something 
about her that frightened the girl, who at once 
called Riki. 

The old servant hurried into the room. She 
cast one look at the sleeper, then called out in 
agony, “Merciful God, she is dead!” 

The old lady’s heart had ceased beating. Death 
had come in her sleep. Her eyes were closed, her 
lips bore a serene expression, and her hands, which 
rested on the coverlet, were clasped as in prayer. 
It looked as if she had lain awake holding com- 
munion with her God until her eyelids closed for 
the last long sleep. 

That she had gone to her reward Roseli could 


THE NEW HOME 


135 


hardly comprehend, so natural seemed her repose. 
Her benign old face was encircled by the edge of 
a lace night - cap, through whose meshes her locks 
showed slightly wavy and almost white. 

Roseli stroked her hand. It was still warm, 
but on her cheeks was the pallor of death. 

“What if she has but fallen in a faint? Call 
the doctor, quick, and Mrs. Van Orley,” she 
ordered. 

They came, but only to find that Mrs. Van 
Arnhem had passed to the world beyond. 

It was still hard for Roseli to understand that 
this was death. She remembered how, when her 
grandfather passed away, she could not believe he 
was dead until she touched his cold hand. But he 
had at least been sick abed, while Mrs. Van Arnhem, 
though frail, had not been thus confined. The doc- 
tor himself admitted that he had seldom seen evi- 
dences of so peaceful a departure. 

The funeral arrangements for the next few daj^ 
so engrossed Roseli’ s attention that she found no 
time to realize the extent of her loss, but after the 
burial not only she and her friends but also a great 
many poor people, whom Mrs. Van Arnhem had 
assisted, had the full force of the stroke brought 
home to them. All felt their bereavement, but no 


THK FUGITIVES 


136 


one so deeply as Roseli, who had now lost her 
second mother. 

“May I never forget her teachings and her ex- 
ample,” she thought to herself as she placed a 
wreath of exquisite flowers upon the grave. Her 
thoughts went back to the day she and her brother 
planted the little wooden cross on the mound that 
covered the remains of their grandfather, and from 
there to the heavenly abode where with the eye of 
faith she saw him now. She wondered where that 
bourne of bliss might be and pondered much over 
the problems of the hereafter during the next few 
weeks, while she and old Riki lived alone in Mrs. 
Van Arnhem’s old home. 



XVIIL 


DUCHESS ADELGUNDA. 


the duke’s palace Werni was still doing 
cj duty as adjutant to young Duke Sigis- 
mund, who had taken a promise of the 
young Swiss to remain always in his service. 

“A boy came here with a marmot,” he told 
Werni one day, “and as I was amused by the little 
animal, I bought it of him. Mr. Von Schbnborn 
questioned the little lad who said he had found the 
pet in a cage near a deserted gypsy camp. It is a 
very handsome cage, too. 

Werni looked at it. “That’s my cage: I made 
it with my own hands, and I am sure it’s the same 
pet marmot I used to own.” 

137 


138 


THE FUGITIVES 


“I am glad of it. You may have them both, 
and may this be a good omen that you will some 
day find your sister.” 

Werni was delighted to get back his little pet, 
which revived many pleasant memories and seemed 
to bring silent greetings from Roseli. Werni chat- 
ted with it and asked a great many questions, to 
which the intelligent animal unfortunately could 
make no reply, though it pricked up its ears and 
listened ever so attentively. 

Mr. Von Schonborn continued to show Werni 
every kindness, and permitted him to participate 
more directly in the instruction given the young 
duke, besides being his constant companion on hunt- 
ing trips and other outdoor pastimes. 

In the latter Duchess Adelgunda also took part, 
though less frequently after the Christmas holidays. 
She seemed to grow weaker day by day, and dark 
rings appeared about her beautiful eyes. 

“Don’t you think she is seriously ill,” Werni 
inquired of Mr. Von Schonborn one day. 

“We all fear she is,” said he, “and his high- 
ness the duke already has consulted several phy- 
sicians. They say her lungs are affected and have 
prescribed a number of remedies, which only seem 
to make her worse. My opinion is that a change 


DUCHESS ADKEGUNDA 


139 


of air would be best for her. The entire duchy is 
composed of lowlands hedged in by forests, and 
what she needs is the light fresh air of the mount- 
ains.’ » 

“Couldn’t she go to Switzerland to live among 
our beautiful Alps ? I have heard of many persons 
hopelessly sick who were cured up there. Oh, Mr. 
Von Schonborn, won’t you say a word to the duke. 
I would be very happy should her highness be re- 
stored to health in my fatherland.” 

“That is a good suggestion,” said the duke’s 
governor. “I will speak to her father at the first 
opportunity, and as he is greatly worried about his 
daughter’s condition, he is likely to follow the 
advice.” 

Without delay Mr. Von Schonborn had a talk 
with the old duke, with whom the suggested trip 
to the Alps found greater favor than he had dared 
to hope. The duke naturally had to consult the 
court physicians, who pronounced in favor of the 
trip, which was consequently decided upon. 

“It would not surprise me,” said one of the 
physicians, “if the Alpine regions should some day 
become a noted resort for the sick, but roads must 
be built first in that country, for as it is, no stranger 
could find his way there without a native guide.” 


140 


THK FUGITIVES 


“Well, we have just such a one in Werner 
Reding, adjutant to the young duke, and should 
you gentlemen desire any further information I will 
call him at once.” 

Werni came, and a long parley of questions 
and answers and arguments ensued. In words aglow 
with patriotic fire, Werni described his native valley, 
its light, bracing air and its charming beauty of 
scenery. 

The doctors shook their wise heads doubtfully 
at the apparent exaggerations in the young man’s 
description, yet they concluded to send their pa- 
tient there, on condition that Werni could find her 
a suitable place to live during her sojourn in the 
Alps. 

He had no doubt on that score, and the young 
duchess, who already had heard so much about the 
beautiful valley of Mayenthal, now began to picture 
life up there in such rosy colors that she felt better 
even before starting on her journey. 

The extensive preparations were made in great '** 
haste, as her stay in the mountains would be doubly 
beneficial if she were there as early as the begin- 
ning of May. 

At first it was not intended that Sigismund 
should accompany his sister, but when she insisted 


DUCHESS ADEEGUNDA 


141 

on it, he was permitted to go. The others who 
made up the party were, the stewardess, the court 
physician, the governor, and Werni in the capacity 
of guide, together with a retinue of servants. 

The route was laid out via Basel, Berne and 
Interlaken to Mayenthal, where the party w^ould 
remain till past midsummer, provided suitable quar- 
ters could be had, whereupon they w^ould repair to 
Geneva, where the young duchess was to remain 
as long as she chose. 

One beautiful morning the court carriages drove 
up and liveried servants were at hand to assist the 
duchess and her party into the conveyances. 

As the old duke bade his daughter and son a 
tender farewell, he was so overcome by his feelings 
that not even the stern rules of court etiquette suf- 
ficed to keep back his tears. 

“Be careful of my daughter,” he admonished 
them all, “for she is the most precious gem in my 
ducal crown.” 

Eovingly kissing her father’s hand, Adelgunda 
stepped into her carriage and was at once stowed 
away in cloaks and wraps and traveling blankets 
enough to smother her. The bugler blew a merry 
flourish, the whips cracked, and so the party was 
off for the Alps. 



XIX. 

SPRING AND SUNSHINE. 

OR the sake of the duchess, the party made 
but slow progress. They stopped over for a 
few days in Berne, a city almost encircled 
by a bend of the river Aar. It had many points 
of interest to tourists, besides offering a view of the 
giant peaks of the Oberland, which in the glow of 
sunset so charmed the travelers that the duchess 
lay awake long after retiring that night contem- 
plating the wondrous beauty of the spectacle and 
begging her physician in vain for permission to see 
the same grand sight at sunrise next morning. 

As they approached Take Thun they obtained 
a nearer and still grander view of the mountain 
scenery. They found no words to describe the 
142 




SPRING AND SUNSHINK 


143 


overwhelming sights, and however greatly they all 
admired them, Werni’s delight was keener than 
anybody’s. So entranced was he to view his native 
mountains again that he could not sit still in the 
carriage. The road ran along the shore of the 
lake, and as they drove on, the changing scenes 
vied with one another in beauty and sublimity. 

At Interlaken the travelers left the carriages, 
and mounting horses and donkeys they proceeded 
up the narrow pass opening into Mayenthal. A 
short distance from the mouth of the pass the 
duchess wished to rest so as to enter the beautiful 
valley refreshed in body and mind. 

They dismounted, and Werni availed himself 
of the interval to go before and visit the spot where 
his father fell. He found no trace of the battle, 
and neither the blue gentian nor the dainty edel- 
weiss could show him the spot where his father 
slept. 

On both sides of the narrow roadway there 
rose the lofty cliffs that had protected the peaceful 
valley of Mayenthal from time immemorial. Werni 
knew their every contour and approached them 
slowly and with a sort of awe. He half feared to 
find the appearance of the valley changed. For a 
moment he hesitated, but just then he heard the 


144 


THK FUGITIVES 


sound of horse-hoofs behind him and hastened ahead. 
A moment later there lay smiling before his charmed 
gaze his native valley in the garb of springtime. 
The scene was the same as he saw it on that fatal 
morning when he hastened through Wolf’s Gap in 
his father’s footprints. 

True, a number of nouses in the village were 
new, but many of the old ones were still left. 
Among the villagers, who eyed Werni and his party 
with curious interest, he did not recognize a single 
face. This was accounted for by the fact that his 
own old home lay up the valley quite a distance 
from the church and village that formed the heart 
of the community. 

The duchess was charmed with the prospect 
and expressed a desire to rest in the shadow of the 
old chestnut trees near the village, while Werni 
visited his old home alone. 

Grateful for this privilege, the young man 
hurried away up the green slope that ended at the 
foot of the mountain where stood the cherished 
cottage. Would he find it leveled with the ground 
or was it still there? His heart thumped with ex- 
pectancy as he approached the familiar spot. — Ah, 
there was the cottage still, peeping from out a 
dense clump of shade trees. It was partly rebuilt, 


SPRING AND SUNSHINE 


145 


but there was enough left to give it a familiar air. 
The old door with the inscription had been pre- 
served. He peered in through the little checkered 
window, climbed the stairs and v^alked around the 
upper veranda. The rooms were similarly fur- 
nished and almost in the same condition as they had 
been left on the night of the flight, but there were 
no inmates in sight, not even a servant. 

It was Whitsunday, and through the quiet 
valley came the peal of the church-bells calling to 
morning mass. Werni hastened back to the village 
church to join in the worship. 

At a distance he saw the inhabitants from all 
directions flocking to the entrance of the little tem- 
ple on the hill. With his hat pulled down over his 
brow so as not to be recognized, Werni mingled 
with the churchgoers. 

In the crowd just ahead of him two persons 
attracted his notice, and he was unable to take his 
eyes from them. A grayhaired old man, scarcely 
able to walk, hobbled along wdth an alpenstock in 
one hand while the other rested on the shoulder 
of a young girl. 

Werni, after looking compassionately at the 
old man, felt prompted to lend him assistance and 
with that intent approached the aged churchgoer. 


146 


THK FUGITIVES 


As he stepped to the old man’s side, the young 
girl turned and looked at him. 

“Werni!” she exclaimed. 

“Roseli, my own little Roseli!” 

Werni would have folded her to his bosom, but 
she evaded him and cast a meaning look at the 
old man. 

“Don’t you see who this is?’’ 

Werni looked and started. Could that be his 
own father ? Had the sorrows of six years wrought 
such a change? Question followed question. The 
fact remained that his beloved father was still alive 
and standing before him. There in the road and 
in sight of all the people the invalid patriot folded 
his long lost son and daughter to his breast, then 
the happy group disappeared through the church 
entrance, the father leaning fondly on the shoul- 
ders of his children 

At the doors, the elder Reding put off further 
questioning until after services. 

“We are now celebrating the sacred festival in 
memory of the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the 
first Christians, and all nature joins in our celebra- 
tion. There is a soft spring breeze blowing: may 
it carry the pentecostal blessing to our hearts. The 
breezes stir the leaves and grasses to join in the 


SPRING AND SUNSHINE 


147 


praise of the Eord; the flowers burn their incense 
before the throne: may we that assemble in this 
temple do the same. Eet us bring praise and 
thanksgiving from full hearts unto the Almighty, 
for in all this host there are none that have greater 
cause than we.” 

Just as he closed, the church bells ceased ring- 
ing. The church was already filled with worship- 
ers, and Konrad Reding with his son and daughter 
sat down on a bench near the door. 

A beautiful prelude sounded from the organ, 
and when it shaded into the familiar melody the 
congregation fell in and sang the grand old choral 
so appropriate to the day: 

“Come, holy spirit, heavenly dove. 

With all thy quickening powers; 

Kindle a flame of sacred love 
In these cold hearts of ours.” 

In the meantime, the minister stepped before 
the altar. He was a tall, slender young man with 
a face handsome in its earnestness. Werni at once 
recognized in him his old friend, Aloys Landau. 

After the chant, which was performed in a 
most impressive manner, the door to the sacristy 
opened and in tottered an old man, feeble and bent 


148 


FUGITIVES 


with age, who mounted the pulpit with great dif- 
ficulty. 

It was the venerable old Pastor Eandau, Aloys’ 
father, who had seemingly grown ten years older 
in the PTench prison, and, after the treaty of peace, 
was released and returned to his calling, v/ith his 
son, an estimable young man, as his assistant. 

The old man preached a short, pow^erful ser- 
mon, a message direct from heart to heart. He 
spoke indeed with a tongue of fire, from inspiration 
of the heavenly dove, and when at last he pra3^ed 
God’s blessing upon the assemblage, it v/as like a 
Pentecostal breeze blowing over the bowed heads 
and attuning every heart and voice to the last grand 
Amen. 

With hearts still thrilling with devotion the 
people streamed out of the old temple. In the open 
space in front the villagers surrounded Konrad and 
his children. 

They had already met Roseli, but Werni’s sud- 
den appearance in their midst created a new sensa- 
tion. All were eager to hear his story. 

Several hours had passed since Werni had left 
his party. He was obliged to go back at once, 
and after having given a hurried explanation he 
returned to the duchess’ retinue, accompanied by 


SPRING AND SUNSHINE 


149 


the two clergymen and several of the foremost men 
of the valley. 

When these approached, the young duke noticed 
from the look on Werni’s face that something pleas- 
ant had happened to him, and called out: 

“You have found Roseli, I know it!” 

“Yes — and my father, too,” Werni announced 
in jubilant tones, before proceeding to introduce his 
Swiss friends to the duchess and her party. 

The Mayenthal worthies, headed by their old 
pastor, invited the duchess with her whole company 
to honor their humble village with her high pres- 
ence during her sojourn in the valley, at the same 
time placing at her disposal the parsonage as being 
the most comfortably equipped house in the place. 

The invitation was cheerfully accepted. The 
duchess and her lady attendants mounted their 
horses, while the rest followed on foot, and thus 
the whole procession moved on to the parish house, 
where the guests were most hospitably received, but 
were obliged to forego many comforts to which they 
were accustomed at court — a fact which at first gave 
them no end of amusement. 

As soon as they were comfortably installed, the 
duchess and her brother asked to see the girl they 
had heard so much about, and Werni hastened to 


150 


THE EUGITIVKS 


bring bis sister Roseli and his father before his 
royal friends. 

Eeaning on his son’s shoulder, Konrad Reding 
stood in their presence, overwhelmed by his feel- 
ings as he expressed his gratitude for all the kind- 
nesses bestowed upon his son. 

They found Roseli all that Werni had told them 
of her. She was now in the very bloom of her 
youth, a sweet maiden of sixteen summers. From 
beneath her broad-rimmed hat, tied with a wide 
black ribbon — the sign of mourning for her foster- 
mother — two heavy golden brown braids fell far 
below her waist. 

The duchess proffered her hand, but Roseli 
modestly bent down and kissed the folds of her 
gown. 

A few days later their highnesses made a tour 
through the valley, intent on visiting the cottage 
of the Redings, so familiar to them from the little 
model chalets of which Werni had made so many. 

Under a pear tree in blossom, where old Arnold 
used to sit, a chair was placed for the young inva- 
lid. The others formed a circle about the duchess, 
at whose request Konrad Reding related his experi- 
ences, followed by Roseli’ s story of her adventures 
after the separation from Werni. 


SPRING AND SUNSHINK 


151 


The elder Reding had been severely wounded 
at the battle of the pass and left for dead on the 
battlefield. Reviving gradually, he succeeded in 
bandaging his wounds with strips torn from the 
garments of his fallen compatriots, and then drag 
himself along till he reached the roadside, where a 
peasant lifted him into his cart and brought him 
home. In the peasant’s cottage he received tender 
care, until, partly restored to health but maimed 
for life, he was able to take his way to Stanz, 
where he found his cousin Josepha. Her husband 
had fallen in battle, and the family had suffered 
great material loss in the war, but she still dwelt 
with her adopted daughter in the old homestead. 
After peace was restored, she removed with Reding 
to Mayenthal, where she built a little cottage of 
her own. She kept house for Conrad and remained 
his only help and comfort, after all search for his 
children had been given up as fruitless. 

Roseli concluded her story, as the reader already 
knows it, with these additional details: 

“When, after the funeral, Mrs. Van Arnhem’s 
last will and testament was made known, Mr. Van 
Orley informed me tliat my fostermother had been 
so kind as to leave me quite a sum of money. I 
was no less thankful to her for styling me her dear 


152 


THK FUGITIVES 


fosterdaughter and crediting me with having been 
the sunshine in the evening of her life, for which 
she invoked God’s richest blessings upon me. In 
talking over my future, the Van Orleys offered me 
a home with them, but before I had decided to 
accept their hospitality, a letter arrived from the 
merchant from whom the model Swiss cottage was 
purchased, stating that the artist was now adjutant 
to his highness, Duke Sigismund, in the duchy of 
Pfalz-Zweibriicken. I wrote at once to the ducal 
court and received the reply that my brother most 
likely could be reached at Mayen thal. I resolved 
to start without delay and came to Switzerland in 
company with a business associate of Mr. Van Or- 
ley. Reaching Mayenthal, I found, not my lost 
brother, but my father. As Werni had not appeared, 
we concluded he must have been delayed on the 
way, and you can imagine our surprise and joy 
when he suddenly stood before us on our way to 
church.” 

As she ended her narrative, the pleasure of the 
meeting was depicted in the countenances of all 
three, while their friends shared their happiness — 
all but Duke Sigismund, who turned to Werni with 
a troubled look: 


SPRING AND SUNSHINK 


153 


“And do you now intend to remain here in 
your native valley?” 

“Yes, your Highness,” was Werni’s prompt 
reply. 

“And leave your post as my adjutant? You 
hoped to be a soldier some day. My intention was, 
upon attaining my majority a couple of years hence, 
to enter the service of one of the great powers and 
take you along. You would soon earn your spurs, 
I am sure.” 

“Your Highness,” Konrad Reding interposed, 
“I thank you again for your great kindness to my 
son, but a true Swiss no longer takes hire from a 
foreign power.” 

Silence fell upon the little group, and like a 
peaceful protest against the clash of arms through- 
out Europe, down the green mountain slope there 
came the faint jingle of cowbells and the flourish 
of the shepherd’s horn calling the kine to their 
stalls and the sheep to their fold. 

The sun stood low in the west and Reding 
directed the attention of his guests to the beautiful 
play of color about the snowy peak of Mount 
Tittis and the gilded crests of the majestic Oberland 
mountains in the far distance. 

There was freedom, joy and the pleasure of 


154 


I'HE FUGITIVES 


living in every breath; all discord was banished 
from this grand mountain symphony, in the sight 
of Nature’s majesty, all distinctions between man 
and man were wiped out, and not as prince and 
servant, but like two boon companions, Duke Sigis- 
mund and Werni clasped hands in farewell. 



A FAMILY GROUP. 

« UCHESS ADKEGUNDA and her brother 
Sigismund remained in Mayenthal until past 
midsummer, as planned, and fared very 
well, as witnessed the marked improvement in the 
duchess’ condition. At their departure they were 
accompanied through the mountain pass by nearly 
all the inhabitants of the valley, for they had won 
the hearts of all and it was not without mutual 
regret that they separated from the simple dwellers 
of the valley. 

It was very hard for Werni to part from Mr. 
Von Schonborn, who had shown him many kind- 
nesses and taught him a great deal. The highly 
respected governor promised to write and assured 
Werni his replies would give him much pleasure. 

155 


mu FUGITIVES 


15^ 


From Mayenthal the royal party went to Ge- 
neva, where they spent the remainder of the sum- 
mer season, then to Italy, passing the winter in 
that delightful clime. With body and mind restored 
to perfect health, the duchess returned home the 
following spring, both she and her brother cherish- 
ing for life pleasant memories of the 3^oung Swiss 
patriot and his glorious fatherland. 

Werni took charge of the old family homestead, 
which flourished again under his management. The 
old cottage, still in bad repair after the ravages of 
war and the gnawing tooth of time, was torn down 
and a new one built on the exact pattern of the 
old one. At one window a little space was set 
aside for the pet marmot, the friend and companion 
of years of errantry and the provider of many a 
farthing. The little animal had the best of care 
in its old age and lived to amuse the village young- 
sters for several years. 

Werni Reding after a few years took for his 
wife Aunt Josepha’s adopted daughter. Marguerite, ^ 
a most estimable young woman, who made him as 
happy as could be. 

Roseli, who was the apple of her father’s eye, 
cared for him with the utmost devotion and tender- 
ness, but she had kindness to spare for all others, 


A FAMILY GROUP 


157 


and as she was reputed to be a rich heiress many 
a village swain sought her hand in marriage, but 
as the suitors one by one came away with a mitten 
for their "pains, she seemed to be content to live 
with her father and brother. But appearances were 
deceptive, for when the right man came, he was 
accepted without hesitation, and so Roseli one fine 
day was escorted from the lowly cottage in the 
valley up to the church and thence to the parsonage 
to be the wife of the handsome young parish rector, 
Aloys Landau. 

The elder Landau had been gathered to his 
fathers, his son taking his place. Aloys became 
known far and wide for his pure and unimpeach- 
able character and the intelligent zeal and deep con- 
secration with which he pursued his calling. He 
engaged in the battle against sin and iniquity with 
the same strong heart and sure aim that character- 
ized his career as a soldier fighting the invaders of 
his fatherland; and as in the field he had often 
stopped to aid and comfort some wounded comrade, 
so now his sympathetic heart found its greatest de- 
light in lifting up the fallen and bringing the bread 
and water of life to those that hunger and thirst. 
And in this blessed mission there was always at his 
side a ministering angel — the tenderhearted Roseli. 


158 


THE FUGITIVES 


She had seen more of the world, had a wider 
experience and a more thorough schooling than any 
other woman in the valley. The consequence was 
that the sensible little pastor’s wife soon became 
the acknowledged oracle of all the women in Mayen- 
thal. To her they turned for advice and aid in 
every trifling need or predicament. Thereby she 
gained an insight into their ignorance and limita- 
tions, which prompted her to establish, in co-opera- 
tion with her husband and her brother, the first 
school in the valley. Before, the children had always 
been taught at home, now they were given free in- 
struction of a more competent order, with the three 
founders and patrons as volunteer instructors. 

Alongside of her work in school, Roseli found 
time to manage her household like an ideal Swiss 
housewife. When she was not busy making her 
famous specimens of Swiss cheese, she would be en- 
grossed, together with her husband, in some great 
masterpiece of Goethe or Schiller, whose works found 
their way even to this secluded spot. 

Nothing proved of such absorbing interest to 
them as the latter’s fine dramatic poem, Wilhelm 
Tell, and they had scarcely finished reading before 
they hastened over to the Reding cottage to recite 
it to father Konrad and Werni. 


A FAMII^Y GROUP 


159 


Konrad Reding’ s wounds had made him an in- 
valid for life, compelling him to give up all work 
requiring physical exertion. This forced idleness 
was irksome to the bold huntsman and energetic 
farmer, but by degrees he yielded to necessity and 
submitted to God’s will. When he had turned the 
little farm over to his sturdy son and sat in peace 
and plenty, enjoying the kind attentions of his 
children, his son-in-law, and later his grandchildren, 
he ceased to brood over his losses and turned instead 
with grateful heart to the Giver of all good gifts. 

This peaceful life brought him daily closer to 
the Savior, and the Bible, dear to him from child- 
hood, grew even more precious. With the sacred 
book in his lap, he would sit through the long 
winter evenings in his old armchair at the fireside 
and on pleasant summer days in old Arnold’s accus- 
tomed place on the bench beneath the old peartree. 

In the course of years there gathered about his 
knees quite a group of little roysterers, whose great- 
est delight it was to play with grandpa. 

When not reading, Konrad employed his time 
at basketmaking or woodcarving, and as he was 
almost as skilled in the use of carving tools as 
Werni, who also kept up the craft on leisure time, 
father and son kept disposing of their handiwork in 


i6o 


THE FUGITIVES 


considerable quantities and at prices which brought 
them a snug annual income. 

In the pretty little flower garden surrounding 
the blooming peartree we find old Konrad sitting 
one balmy evening in spring. On one side sit Werni 
and Marguerite, on the other, Rbseli and Aloys. 
Their eyes rest on the pleasing view before them, 
for years of peace had healed the wounds war had 
given and Mayenthal again went by its old popular 
name — Peaceful Valley. 

While they sit talking over past ana pres- 
ent, the children come storming along carrying limbs 
of lilac and honeysuckle to deck grandfather’s chair. 
When they hear their parents talk of days past, they 
urge them to tell the story of that terrible night 
of the French invasion. And they^ tell their story, 
one by one, Roseli, Werni, Aloys, Margarite and old 
Konrad Reding. 

“But,” says grandpa at last, “the Good Shep- 
herd guided us safely through it all. He hath, in- 
deed, brought his sheep to the fresh waters and 
borne the lambs in his arms,” and pointing to the 
motto over the cottage door, he adds: ^'The Lord, 
thy God, shall never forsake theel''' 



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DEC SO^^'^9 


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One copy del. to Cat. Div. 








